Sacrifice
by Jedi Rita
Summary: Luke murders an innocent person to save Mara. Now he is on trial for his life, and both he and Mara must face the consequences of his actions.
1. Chapters 1-3

Title: Sacrifice 

Author:  Jedi Rita

Rating: PG-13

Summary:  Luke commits murder in order to save Mara.  Does this act make him evil?

Warning: I play fast and loose with the EU, so don't yell at me for my copious inaccuracies.  I never intended this story to be for public consumption, and it's not worth going back and making it consistent with canon.  So just laugh whenever someone or something shows up where it shouldn't, and just go along with the flow.

Author's note:  I was inspired to write this story by, of all things, the example of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pacifist German clergyman who felt that Hitler represented such a great evil that he was willing to sacrifice his pacifist beliefs in order to participate in an assassination plot.  The plot failed, Bonhoeffer was arrested, and he died at Auschwitz in 1944, shortly before the camp was liberated.  I call it "Bonhoeffer's dilemma" – the ethical question of what it means when a person is willing to violate their most deeply held beliefs.  So I put Luke through Bonhoeffer's dilemma.  His situation is in no way meant to be seen as identical to Bonhoeffer's, but I found it intriguing to explore the ethical implications of his choice.  I'm not sure if I actually agree with my own story or not, and will be very interested to hear readers' feedback.  Also, be warned: I did not "cheat" on this ending and give it the one I wanted it to have.  I determined in the beginning to be honest and let what happen to Luke be dictated by the parameters of the story. 

This story is dedicated to just a few of the great pacifist leaders of the 20th century, Dietrich Bonhoeffer of Germany, Benigno Aquino of the Philippines, and Nelson Mandela of South Africa, all of whom are somehow or another represented in this story.  The United Nations has declared 2001-2010 to be a "Decade to Create a Culture of Nonviolence."  Peace can happen, if we will it.

Disclaimer:  I am just a Jedi Padawan.  I own nothing.  All that I have belongs to my Master George: my money, my action figures, my dreams and fantasies.  In return he gives me wisdom, many lessons in patience and humility, and the best galaxy in the universe to play in.  All hail Master George!

Part One Chapter One: Darkness Descending 

The speeder pulled into a dark alley and drew to a stop.

"The compound is two blocks west of here," the driver said to his passenger.

"I know," was the tight reply.  "I studied the maps thoroughly."

The driver gripped the wheel harder, but he didn't look at the other man.  "I'll be back here in exactly 45 minutes, and if you don't show --"

"It won't take me that long.  Meet me in half an hour."

The driver looked at his passenger in disbelief.  He wanted to contradict, that there was no way anyone could get in and out of the compound in that time, let alone accomplish the mission.  But he bit his lip and remained silent.  After all, a Jedi Knight wasn't just anyone, and Luke Skywalker wasn't just any Jedi.  That's why they had wanted him for the job.  "All right, then, half an hour."

But Luke had already raised the door and exited the speeder.  He vanished into the shadows before the driver could wish him luck.

Luke slid noiselessly through the dark streets.  Even though he had never before set foot on Pamylasia, he knew exactly where he was headed.  The slick streets, damp from the evening rain, glistened from the light of the street lamps on the main avenue, but Luke held to the dark walls, blending in.  Even if anyone else had been on the streets at this late hour, they would never have seen the silent Jedi.

Within minutes, Luke reached a high wall.  He paused a moment.  Three meters high and half a meter thick of durastone, topped with an additional meter of invisible laser beams, ready to fry anyone who tried to climb over.  Gauging the distance, Luke sprang like a coil and arched over the wall, sailing between two of the beams with mere centimeters to spare.  Somersaulting, he dropped to his feet, where he again paused, getting his bearings.  He knew where every camera and alarm was, and he quickly plotted his route to the door he'd picked out to give him access to the building.

He raced across the lawn with the assurance and agility of a panther and flattened himself against the door.  It was locked, but with the Force he was easily able to open the latch, and he slipped into the building.

When he reached the first security camera, he attached a small device to it that would freeze a blank frame, enabling him to pass undetected.  It would only last for twenty minutes, but that gave Luke more than enough time.

Two floors up, and toward the south wing.  He disabled cameras as he went, and the few people he met were easily eluded.  It would be a little trickier once he reached his destination.

The minutes ticked steadily away as he finally reached the hall, one leg of an L-shaped corridor.  There were cameras at each end of the hall, and two Noghri stood guard at the door.  Luke deactivated the camera and levitated the other device along the ceiling toward the camera at the far end, slowly, so the Noghri wouldn't detect the movement.

Luke knew from personal experience what efficient and ruthless bodyguards the Noghri made.  They were almost as fast as any Jedi, and their senses were even more acute.  That's why Luke had been picked for the job.  He was the only person who stood a chance against the Noghri.  It was only a chance, but he had to risk it.  There was too much at stake.  Luke remained absolutely still so they wouldn't hear him, even his breathing, and he carefully manipulated the air flow through the hall so it would carry his scent away from the guards.

Slowly, the deactivating device slid along the ceiling.  The Noghri didn't notice.  Once he got the device to the camera, Luke knew his luck wouldn't keep the Noghri from hearing the device attach itself.  If Luke could have attached it by hand, as he had the one at his end of the hall, he could have done it silently.  But even his mastery over the Force was not great enough to allow him the precision to attach the device as quietly as by hand.

A bead of sweat trailed down Luke's forehead from the strain.  With a wry grin, despite his grim situation, Luke realized it wouldn't be long before the Noghri would smell him anyway.  He conjured up the hint of a sound at his end of the hallway, an indeterminate sound, like the buzzing of a fly or the hissing of the wind, just enough to distract the Noghri while he attached the device.  But he had to get the timing right, to freeze the frame before the Noghri moved.

It worked.  They turned in his direction, noses twitching, one moment after he attached the device.  They were distracted from the camera, but now they were on alert.  His time was up.  Gripping his lightsaber, he strode into the hall, full of purpose.

"I'm Luke Skywalker, son of Vader," he greeted them, his voice quiet but strong.

The guards eyes widened slightly, the only hint of their surprise, before they returned his greeting with equanimity.  "Greetings, Lord Vader," they replied in unison.

Luke was so focused, he didn't even wince upon being hailed by that name.  "An assassin has entered the building and is planning an attack.  We must act quickly."  He felt the beginning of suspicion forming in their minds.  Using the Force to add conviction to his gesture, Luke pointed down the hallway from which he had just come.

And for an instant, in violation of all their training and instincts, the attention of both Noghri was directed away from Luke.  In the space of a heartbeat, he slid behind them and ignited his saber, killing them both with one stroke.

With a long sigh, Luke released some of the tension the confrontation had built up.  He regretted killing the Noghri.  They were fierce but honorable.  Nevertheless, despite the loyalty they felt to his family, they would have killed him if they knew what he had come to do.  Luke bowed his head for a moment over the guards.  Then, drawing his concentration like a cloak around him, he opened the door.

It was unlocked.  Of course.  Why lock a door that is guarded by Noghri?  The room was completely dark, but Jedi eyes could see well enough.  He passed through the room as confidently as if it were midday, until he reached the bedroom door.

Sixty seconds, and it would be over.  He could not even allow room for thought.  He must simply act, as his Jedi-honed skills took him through the next minute.

He opened the door and entered the room.  Two meters away was the bed.  He moved to its side and looked down on its sleeping occupants, untroubled by what had just occurred outside in the hall.  On the side of the bed nearest Luke slept a woman, next to her, her husband.

Luke drew a hypodermic out of his tunic and pressed it to the man's neck.  The man jerked slightly at the sting, but the drug took effect immediately.  He would remain unconscious for at least an hour.  Luke turned to the woman, trying not to look at her face, a face he had only seen in newscasts and photos, one he had never seen in person before.  He resolutely tried not to notice how much younger she appeared, her face relaxed in sleep, the careworn wrinkles softened in the night's dark glow.  Instead he noticed her position, lying on her back.  That made it easier.

He placed the blade end of his lightsaber against her heart and thumbed the switch on, then off.  The blade passed through her body and into the bed, betraying no light to any security camera.  It also killed her instantly.  

His task complete, Luke clipped the blade to his belt and left the room, never looking back.  

  
Chapter Two: Confession 

Han Solo and Chewbacca stood on a street corner on Myrmidon, trying to hail a taxi.  After the polluted air of Coruscant, the fresh breeze and mild sun felt good on their faces.  Han wouldn't even have minded walking.  Spacers spent so much time in artificial lighting and recycled air that they appreciated every moment they spent planetside, even while they chafed under the restrictions of gravity.  But Han didn't know where the hospital Luke asked them to meet him at was, and anyway a taxi quickly pulled up next to them.

"Where to?" the driver asked, her face beaming with the tell-tale signs of recognition and hero worship.

Han gritted his teeth.  "Pandar City Hospital," he said, sliding into the cab after Chewie.

The driver sped off, silent for a moment before asking the question she was dying to know the answer to.  "Say, aren't you --?"

"Nope, I just look like him.  Happens all the time."

Doubt flickered across the cabbie's face, reflected in the rear view mirror.  "But doesn't he travel with a --?"

"Yes, but he's a Grenadaian," he answered, jabbing his thumb at Chewbacca.  "They're a lot shorter than Wookiees."

The cabbie's face fell. "Oh, sorry," she apologized, and drove the rest of the trip in silence.

Next to Han, Chewie chortled softly.  As two famous heroes, he and Han had no problem getting taxis.  They almost never had to pay for a meal at a restaurant or for a room in a hotel.  People were often eager to show their gratitude to the heroes by giving them service gratis.  But these benefits came with another kind of price, an adulation that did not rest well on the Corellian's shoulders.  Sometimes it was just easier to pretend it was a case of mistaken identity.

Chewie had another reason to laugh, though.  Han's game with the cabbie was the closest thing to humor he had exhibited in weeks.  Chewie hooted a question at his friend.

"Yeah, I guess so," Solo replied.  "I'll just be glad to see Luke and Mara safe."  He looked out the window at the street scene passing by, his chin resting on his fist.  Luke and Mara had been on a goodwill tour, really more of a vacation.  It was all very ordinary and low-key, when suddenly they disappeared.  They were gone for over a week when finally out of the blue, Luke called Coruscant to say they were all right, and to ask Han to meet them on Myrmidon.  Luke's voice had been calm, but his eyes were dark and haunted.  Clearly their disappearance had not been voluntary, but he refused to say anything about what happened, and he cut off the transmission when Leia pressed him on it.

Leia had wanted very much to come to Myrmidon as well, but she couldn't afford to leave Coruscant right now.  In addition to all the ordinary crises that commanded the Head of State's attention, Dimishaneer Akeeno, president of Pamylasia, had been assassinated.  An assassination might be considered an ordinary crisis as well, but two factors made the situation on Pamylasia stand out.  First was the fact that the murder weapon was almost certainly a lightsaber, giving rise to speculation about an unknown Sith Lord, or even one of the renegade Jedi gypsies, up to some diabolical machination.

Whoever the assassin was, though, they couldn't have picked a more critical target.  Akeeno, known as Dimi to her people, was deeply revered not only on Pamylasia but throughout the galaxy as one of the greatest souls alive.  For decades Pamylasia had been torn by racial and political strife so intense it made the Empire look like a kindergarten.  As a young woman, Akeeno had been active in the struggle against the Barons who ruled Pamylasia with an almost fanatic oppression.  One of the most promising leaders of the resistance, she had been arrested and spent almost 20 years in prison, separated from her husband and people.  She became a symbol, a rallying cry for the resistance.  The dream was that Pamylasia would be free only when Akeeno herself was free.

As galactic disapproval for the Barons' regime grew, one of the Barons eventually realized that change was in order.  He freed Akeeno and ordered free elections to be held, a courageous move that brought  peace to Pamylasia, but ended his own life with an assassin's attack.

Dimi Akeeno, now entering her senior years, emerged from prison with her wisdom and compassion intact.  The woman whom no one except her guards had seen for 20 years turned out to be an even greater leader than revered memory had made of her.  She united the people with her guidance, and when she ran for president in the elections closely monitored by Republican forces, she won by a landslide.  No one had ever dreamed the quagmire of conflict on Pamylasia could be resolved without tremendous bloodshed, but Akeeno had worked a miracle.

Han had met her on two occasions.  Once, when she came to Coruscant to discuss the transition to democracy with Leia, and again when he and Leia attended Akeeno's inauguration.  Han had met many remarkable people in his day, but none had so closely resembled a saint as Akeeno.  In some ways she reminded him of an older Leia, with the same passion and benevolence.  Han didn't much care for politicians, other than the ones in his immediate family, but Akeeno was different.  News of her death had hit him hard, but it had shaken Leia to the very core of her being.  All the galaxy was stunned at Akeeno's loss, and most tragically, Pamylasia threatened to tear apart in violence once more.  The fragile peace Akeeno had woven unraveled without her steady leadership, and everyone feared that the planet would now lose its one chance for a brighter future.

But Han and Chewie had left that behind them on Coruscant.  Their primary concern was to see that Luke and Mara were safe.  If Luke hadn't heard yet about Akeeno, he would also be distressed by the news.  Luke admired her deeply, but there were more immediate concerns to deal with.

They arrived at the hospital and headed to Mara's room.  They found her, lying asleep in her bed, Luke seated near her, his head in his hands as if in grief.  Fear lanced through Han, and he asked, "Is she all right?"

At the sound of his voice, Luke looked up, and his eyes brightened, although he did not smile.  "She'll be fine," he sighed.  "She's been in the bacta tank.  They just took her out about half an hour ago.  She's sleeping now."

Han quietly pulled up a chair next to Luke and sat down, resting his hand on the Jedi's shoulder.  Chewie paced slowly back and forth at the door, as if he still weren't sure that all was well.  Han studied Luke for a minute, as the younger man watched his wife, unwilling to meet Han's gaze.  Luke looked even worse than he had in the last holo communication.  There was an ashen hue to his skin, and lines creased his forehead.  His eyes were flat and lifeless, with none of their usual glitter and shine.  It seemed as if something had stolen Luke's spirit away, and all that was left of him was an empty shell.

Han looked at Mara, noticing for the first time braces on two fingers of her left hand, and a bandage on her right.  Both her feet were in casts.  Other than that, she appeared to be fine.  But if she had required bacta treatment.…

"What happened?" he asked, prompting the answer Luke seemed reluctant to give.

Luke didn't take his gaze from his wife.  "We were kidnapped.  By people who really know how to handle Jedi.  There was nothing I could do.…"  An anxious edge had crept into Luke's voice.  He stopped to collect himself, and when he spoke again, his voice was calm and flat.  "They tortured Mara.  They knew how to do that, too, how to cause her unbearable pain without doing any permanent damage.  At least they kept their word on that."  He stopped again, distracted by something out in the hall.

"What did they want?" Han prompted.

"They wanted me."  Luke glanced out into the hallway, past the door where Chewie now stood in silence, then turned back to Han, looking into his eyes for the first time.  What Han saw there frightened him.  "Han, something terrible has happened, and it's only going to get worse.  Please," he begged, his hands clasping Han's arms as if he couldn't let go.  "Promise me you'll take care of Mara, make sure she's all right."

"Of course, you know I will, but what --"

Han was interrupted by a knock at the door.  A group of people entered, dressed in the distinctively non-descript garb favored by government agents everywhere, probably security agents or police, along with a couple of doctors.  One of the doctors, who had knocked on the door, said, "Jedi Skywalker?  The agents are here to see you.  I'll have them wait in the hall until you're ready."

"No, that's all right," Luke replied, coming to his feet.  "I'll see them now."

Han and Chewie followed him out into the hallway, closing the door behind them.  A window placed in the wall enabled Han to keep an eye on Mara sleeping in the room.  

One of the agents, wearing a drab gray suit, said, "Jedi Skywalker, it is an honor to meet you.  I was told you had information about the murder of Dimishaneer Akeeno."

Startled, Han glanced at Luke, but the Jedi merely nodded.

"I'm sure the authorities on Pamylasia will be happy to hear about it.  They have no ambassador here on Myrmidon, but the government has asked me to work on their behalf.  If you have any information that will help us capture the assassin --"

"I can do more than that.  I can give him to you myself.  He's me."

Luke's words seems to form a bubble around the group standing outside Mara's door, a bubble that admitted no sound and slowed time.  The agent blinked twice before saying, "I beg your pardon, sir?"

Luke's earlier words were spoken calmly, but now the anxiety Han had seen in the room returned.  Still outwardly calm, Luke's whole body tensed, as if from the strain of holding in some terrible storm of emotion.  "I am the one who killed Akeeno."

No one could mistake his words, and yet neither can anyone make sense of them.  The agents looked at each other in confusion.  "Sir, if something has happened --."

"It did," Luke's voice cracked.  "I killed Akeeno.  I freely confess it."  The words poured out of him as his audience stood in disbelieving silence.  "I am the assassin.  I place myself in your custody until I can be sent back to Pamylasia to stand trial for my crime.  I only came here to see that Mara was cared for.  I'm ready to go with you now."  He removed his lightsaber from his belt and held it out to the agent with a trembling hand.

As the agent reached out to take the saber, everyone in the group was suddenly released from their astonished stupor.

"This can't be right.  There's got to be a mistake," one of the doctors was saying.

"He's confessed," the agent replied, falling back on the safety of procedure to get him through this scene.  "I am required to take him into custody."

"We can't arrest Luke Skywalker!" another of the agents protested.  "We'll all be fired!"

Han's hand moved to his blaster, an unconscious gesture which fortunately the agents were too distracted to notice.  "No one's taking Luke anywhere.  He didn't kill anybody."

"Yes, I did," Luke interjected.

"Sir, I don't think you should say anything more without a lawyer present," one of the doctors cautioned.

"I don't need a lawyer," Luke protested, his voice rising.  His whole body now trembled.  "I'm telling you I assassinated Akeeno.  I held my saber to her heart and killed her in her bed while her husband slept next to her. I have to be taken to Pamylasia to stand trial."  His eyes wildly sought the faces of those around him for any hint of understanding.  "Why don't you believe me?  Why don't you arrest me?" he cried.  His voice shook so hard it was almost impossible to understand him.

"Luke --," Han began.

"Sir, you should sit down," one of the doctors advised.

Something inside Luke gave way to the strain, and his legs collapsed beneath him.  He fell to the floor, shaking with sobs.  Instantly Han knelt next to him, his arms around Luke's trembling shoulders.  "That's it," one of the doctors snapped.  "This man needs medical attention; he's not going anywhere.  I'm admitting him immediately."

The head agent appeared relieved.  "I'll have to leave a guard here to make sure he doesn't escape."

"You think he'll try to escape after this?" Han snapped ferociously.

The agent retreated a step, but the doctor said, "Do what you must, but I'm taking him now.  Nurse, help me."

Arms reached down and gently helped Luke into a nearby wheelchair, and he was whisked away, still weeping.  The doctors followed him, along with the head agent, leaving the two others standing uncertainly with Han and Chewie.  The four of them stared at each other in silent shock.

Faintly Han heard someone call Luke's name.  At first he thought it was his own heart crying out in pain.  He turned and glanced through the window to see Mara struggling to sit up in her bed.  Chewie moaned a question to Han, his eyes troubled.

"I don't know," answered Han.  "If she's been unconscious all this time, maybe he never had the chance to tell her."  Chewie hooted another comment, but Han only clenched his jaw.  "Let's see."  He cast a final accusing glare at the remaining agents before returning to Mara's room.

She was still trying to sit up, but she had only managed to prop herself onto her elbows.  Her green eyes were not fully focused.  "Han?" she gasped.

"Take it easy," he cautioned, gently forcing her to lie down again.

She settled uneasily against the pillow.  "I heard Luke a minute ago.  Where he go?"

Han fussed with the blankets, tucking them around his sister-in-law.  "He, uh -- he collapsed in the hall," he said, nodding his head toward the door.  Concern filled Mara's eyes, and he added, "He's all right.  I think it's just the strain.  The doctor took him down the hall to check on him."

She closed her eyes, whether to conceal her fear or to gather her strength, Han was unsure.  Mara had never been very demonstrative, nor was she the kind of person who confided easily in others.  Han liked Mara well enough, but he sometimes had trouble understanding how Luke, who had always been so open with his emotions, could be attracted to someone as reserved and private as Mara.  She'd loosened up a lot since marrying Luke, but then considering how uptight she had always been, that wasn't necessarily saying much.  Han still had trouble knowing how to talk to her sometimes.  He had no idea how to ask her about Luke, and whether she'd been involved.

She opened her eyes and studied her hands, as if realizing for the first time she had been injured.  She tried to flex the fingers of her bandaged right hand, her saber hand, Han noticed, as she winced in pain.  The thought suddenly occurred to him that Luke might have been covering for her, that she might have been the one who assassinated Akeeno.  After all, she had once been trained in that kind of thing.  Hadn't she once intended to assassinate Luke?

"What happened?"  Han asked.  "Luke said you were kidnapped."

"Yeah," Mara said, her throat tight.  "Shot me full of dioxalin.  It distorts your perception of the Force just enough that you can feel it, but you can't control it.  They had ysalamiri, but they didn't want to deaden the Force around me."

"Why not?"

Her eyes clouded.  "They wanted him to feel what they were doing to me.  They tortured me, I don't know for how long.  Never asked me questions or even said a word.  Then they just stopped."  Her face suddenly transformed into that of a small, frightened child, and when she spoke again, her voice was faint and helpless.  "They wanted something from him.  I tried to hold it all in, so he could bear it.  I knew what they were trying to do.  I remember calling out to him not to give in, but when they stopped .…" She closed her eyes again, shaking her head in despair.  "I knew they'd gotten to him."

Han clenched the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white.  He knew what it was like to be tortured in order to get to Luke.  He also knew how effective such methods were against his friend.  Luke was strong and brave when it came to his own life, but he could never bear the pain of those he loved.

When Mara had somewhat regained control, she continued.  "The only thing I remember is waking up on the _Jade Saber, and Luke telling me everything was all right.  But I knew it wasn't.  He wouldn't tell me what happened, but the look in his eyes frightened me, as if he'd given up all hope, even life itself.  I can't bear to think of what they did to him."  Han exchanged a knowing glance with Chewie.  Their eyes met only for an instant, but Mara caught the exchange.  "What?" she demanded.  "You know, don't you?"_

Han didn't know how to tell her, but he also knew he had no right to keep it from her.  "It looks like … it appears he may have assassinated the president of Pamylasia."

Mara as eyes widened in shock, "Dimi Akeeno?" she gasped.  "No.  No, he couldn't have.  Kill someone like Akeeno?  He would never do such a thing, even to protect me.  It would violate --."  She stopped, not daring to go on.  

"Look, I don't know," Han agreed.  "He confessed it out there in the hall, but I can't imagine he could ever be capable of something like that.  There must be more to the story, but he collapsed, and they took him away."

"Where?"  Mara cried in anguish.

"They didn't arrest him," Han hastened to assure her, silently adding _Not yet.  "He's here in the hospital.  They just wanted to check him out."_

"I have to see him!"

"You'll see him soon, don't worry," Han soothed, but he was growing more troubled.  He didn't want to deal with Mara right now.  Her horror at what Luke had done awakened his own shock and disbelief.  His first instinct, as always, had been to protect Luke, to keep him from being arrested.  But now he realized that the greatest threat Luke faced was his own guilt.  How could Luke live with the knowledge that he had killed the saint of Pamylasia?  How could the rest of them live, knowing he had done it?

The emotions in the room threatened to choke Han.  He had to leave.  He stood, shoving the chair away from him.  "Chewie --," he cast about for an excuse.  "Chewie, you stay with Mara.  I'll check on Luke."  And before either Mara or Chewie could reply, he stumbled out of the room.

In the hall, he glanced distractedly around him.  People, everywhere.  He had to get away somewhere where he could think.  He had to call Leia, let her know what had happened.  He wanted to go back to the _Falcon, but he didn't want to be that far away from Luke.  He just needed a minute alone._

He approached the nurses' desk.  "Say, you don't happen to have a communications cubicle around here, do you?"

"Certainly, sir.  Down the hall and to the left," replied the attendant.

That's what Han needed.  He could hide out in the cubicle while he worked up the strength to call Leia.  He turned to go, but the attendant called him back.  "Sir?" she asked.  "He didn't really do it, did he?"

Han stared at her, unable to answer.  He became aware that everyone in the hall was watching, the same question on their faces.  The same look of betrayal.

_Oh, Luke, Han despaired silently.  __What have you done to us all?_

Chapter Three:Farewells 

Luke stirred against the pillow and opened his eyes with an effort.  His limbs felt heavy, and his thoughts had trouble focusing.  All that was clear in his mind was the one memory that grew larger and larger until it threatened to consume his whole being: standing over that dark bed, looking down at the sleeping Akeeno as he plunged his lightsaber into her heart.  His life ceased to exist after that point.  He closed his eyes again, exhausted by the effort of holding the pain at bay.

But another memory slowly took shape within his mind's eye.  Standing in a darkened docking day, beneath the shadow of the _Jade Sabre.  A speeder pulling up, and two figures emerging, carrying Mara on a stretcher.  Mara, delivered safely to him.  Mara, for whom he had given up everything._

He opened his eyes, and focused on a figure nearby.  Han sat, thumbing through a magazine.  Luke shifted against the pillow, and Han looked up.  He didn't smile, but his expression grew tender.  "Good morning," he greeted.

"Morning?"  Luke repeated.

"It's 10:30.  You slept all night and well into today.  You were out like a light."

"Put out, you mean.  They drugged me."  He gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Well, you needed it," Han demurred.  "How do you feel?"

Luke massaged his face with his fingertips, trying to rub the sluggishness away.  How to answer such a question?  He started to tell the truth, that he felt lower than a skink in a bantha stampede, but then he realized how that would sound.  A dark future lay before him, so he'd better prepare for it.  "I feel good enough," he answered.

Han frowned, twisting the magazine in his hands.  He knew Luke was trying to protect him, and he didn't like it.  It was his job to protect Luke, especially now.  Twisting the magazine tighter, he said, "I called Leia."

Luke winced.  "What did she say?"

"Well, there's not much she really could say," Han replied, running his hands through his hair.  "She was worried about you.  She said she's going to get the best lawyers in the galaxy."

"I don't need lawyers," Luke said quietly.

A flood of near panic engulfed Han when he heard Luke's tone.  He recognized it as Luke's stubborn "none of that fancy stuff" Tatooene independence.  He always resisted Leia's diplomatic approach to problem-solving, something Han as a Corellian could understand.  But for once he agreed with Leia.  "Listen, junior," he growled, "you're gonna sit tight and keep your mouth shut until those lawyers get here."

Angered, Luke protested, "Why?  I already confessed.  I did it, and I admit it.  What do I need lawyers for?"

"Gods help me!"  Han swore.  He wanted to strangle Luke.  Instead, he gathered all his powers of persuasion and sat down on the bed next to Luke, grabbing the Jedi firmly by the shoulders and forcing him to look at Han.  "Listen to me, Luke.  This is really serious.  You could get the death penalty, for pity's sake!  I know you think you're doing the right thing, but you have got to listen to the lawyers.  Your confession probably won't be admissible, so you need to keep your trap shut."  Luke shook his head to protest, but Han stopped him.  "Please, Luke," he pleaded.  "You have to let the people who love you try to help you.  You can't face this alone."

The argument worked.  Luke nodded wearily.  "But I have to go back to Pamylasia."

Han didn't like it, but he didn't see how it could be avoided at this point.  The agent guarding Luke had already told Han the Pamylasian government had ordered Luke's extradition as soon as he was released from the hospital.  "All right," he reluctantly agreed.  "But you won't say anything, right?  No more confessions?"

"Right.  Now let me get up.  I need to get dressed."

"Why?"

Luke got unsteadily to his feet, leaning on Han.  "I'm discharging myself from the hospital."

"Now?"  Han protested.

"Do really think there'll be a better time?"

Han couldn't think of an excuse, so he reluctantly helped Luke get dressed.  Neither of them spoke, Han's anxiety mounting by the minute, and Luke actually seeking the respite prison would provide from the disapproval of his loved ones, even from his own feelings of guilt.

Once dressed, Luke opened the door and presented himself to his two guards.  "I'm ready to go whenever you are," he announced, to their surprise.  He offered them his lightsaber, but Han protested, "Don't give it up, kid.  I'll take care of it for you."

Luke hesitated, but one of the guards said, "It'll be wanted for evidence."

Han flinched as the guard pocketed the weapon, a symbol of honor now transformed into an emblem of shame, but Luke showed no emotion.

"I want to see my wife again before we go," Luke said.  At least, Han noted, Luke hadn't phrased it in terms of a request.

The agent agreed, "Of course.  We have to call for backup anyway."

"Backup?"  Han protested.  "Do you really think he'll try to make a break for it?"

Starting to resent Han's interference, the agent huffed, "No, but the Sergeant thinks it's necessary, as much for Jedi Skywalker's protection as anything else."

"Protection?"  Han echoed, even as he became aware of how many people had stopped to watch the drama unfolding in the hall.  Suddenly he wanted to be away from all those prying eyes with their expressions of betrayal.  "Let's get this over with," he muttered.

One of the guards went to call for backup, while the other accompanied Han and Luke to Mara's room.  When they reached the window, Luke saw that the blinds had been drawn.  He turned to Han and grasped his wrist.  "Remember, you promised to stay and take care of her," he urged.

Han wanted to protest that Mara was more than capable of taking care of herself, a claim Han didn't think Luke could make for himself.  But he could not refuse Luke's request, spoken with the intensity of a dying wish, a comparison that was far too close for Han's comfort.  "I promise," he agreed.  "And I'll join you as soon as she's up to it."

The ambiguity of Han's statement seemed to trouble Luke, but he nodded, releasing Han's wrist.  Glancing at the guard, he said, "I'd like to see her alone, if I may."

"Certainly."

Luke paused, collecting himself for this most painful of farewells.  He was acutely aware of the crowd that had gathered in the hall.  He wanted to scream at them, to drive them away.  But this hospital room was all the privacy he would get.  Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and went in.

Mara was seated in a wheelchair looking out the window, her back to Luke.  Her shoulders stiffened when she sensed his presence, but she didn't turn around.  Chewbacca growled a soft greeting to Luke and reached for the handles of Mara's chair to turn her, but she waved him off.  Turning worried eyes on Luke, Chewie left the room, resting his large hand briefly on Luke's shoulder in comfort as he passed him.

Mara remained silent, and Luke took a hesitant step toward her.  All he could think of to say was, "How are you?"

But Mara refused to answer, and Luke could feel the anger radiating from her.  "How could you do it, Luke?" she accused, her voice low.  "Why?  Trade Akeeno's life for mine?  What kind of an exchange is that?  She was a hero, a leader for the whole galaxy, and I'm just a former Imperial agent gone straight.  What am I compared to her?"

_You're my wife, Luke silently replied._

As if she had heard him -- maybe she had -- she shot an angry glance at him over her shoulder.  She fumbled with the wheels of her chair, unable to turn them with her bandaged hands, and Luke quickly moved to where she could face him.

"I am a Jedi!" she spat at him.  "Do you think I don't know the risks, and the responsibilities of that role?  Remember how I once told you I didn't want to be a Jedi because I didn't want to be responsible to everyone who made a claim on me?  You're the one who made me reconsider.  You were there when I made that final commitment.  Do you think I didn't mean it?"

"I know you meant it," Luke answered quietly.  

"So how could you have done it?  It wasn't your decision alone, Skywalker.  Didn't it occur to you that I would willingly give my life to protect Akeeno?"

Luke's heart ached.  This had been his deepest fear.  "Yes," he whispered.

"Then how could you betray my honor?" she cried.

Luke lowered his head, but his heart remained unmoved.  "I couldn't let them kill you.  I couldn't watch you die."

Mara covered her ears with her bandaged hands.  She'd known his answer, but she couldn't bear to hear him say it.  "The Emperor always said your compassion was your greatest weakness.  It made you so predictable.  He was more right than even he knew."  Her eyes turned hard.  "You have condemned me to live a life I know was bought at the price of a life worth ten times as much as mine.  I must live a life I gladly would have given to preserve hers.  How do you expect me to live with that?"

"I'm sorry."  But even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true.  He did not regret his decision.

Mara knew it, too.  "Don't lie to me."

"Then there's nothing more to say."  Luke pushed himself to his feet.

Premonition washed over Mara.  "Where are you going?"

"They're waiting outside to take me back to Pamylasia," was the mild answer.

"No!  You can't leave me like this!"

"I have to."  He began to move toward the doorway.

Fumbling desperately with the wheelchair, Mara cursed, "Damn you, Skywalker, don't you dare leave me.  Don't do this!"

Tears filled Luke's eyes as he resolutely shut his ears to Mara's pleas before his courage gave out.  He stumbled through the door, slamming it shut, but the door was too thin to block out Mara's final anguished cry, "LUKE!"

Unnerved by the screams of rage and grief coming from inside the room, the agent fumbled with a pair of restraining cuffs.

"Powers that be!  Are those really necessary?" Han rebuked, shaken.

"I'm afraid so, sir," the agent stammered.

"Just put them on me and get me out of here!" Luke cried.

The crowd of spectators in the hall, disturbed by Mara's cries, murmured in dismay to see the cuffs snap closed on Luke's wrists.  They were witnessing an outrage.  Luke Skywalker, arrested.  Luke Skywalker, an assassin.  They didn't know whether to stop the arrest, or lynch the Jedi Master themselves.

The guards formed a phalanx surrounding Luke and started to lead him down the hall.  Han wanted to follow, but Luke shouted, "Stay with Mara!"

The crowd pressed closely around the guards, slowing their progress.  Hands reached out toward Luke.  "Bendu, what has happened?" someone cried out, using the old term of respect for the Jedi.

"Clear the way, by order of the police!" the lead agent shouted.  The crowds backed off slightly, but their cries grew louder.  They shouted encouragement, sympathy, questions, while hospital personnel attempted to quiet them.  Then someone yelled, "Murderer!"  A shock wave rippled through the crowd, and they surged against the guards surrounding Luke.  Hisses and moans filled the air, and some of the guards reached for their weapons.

Through his own anguish, Luke could sense the passion of the crowd.  They were on the verge of rioting right in the middle of the hospital, and he could do nothing to stop it.  Never had Luke felt so powerless, not only before his own fate, but also to use his influence for good.  He had committed murder, violating his oath as a Jedi.  What moral right did he now have to exercise leadership?  So he could only watch as the crowd threatened to explode.

"Over there!" one of the agents shouted.  He pointed toward a service elevator where one of the hospital's doctors beckoned them.  They forced their way through the sea of spectators to the proffered escape route.

Inside the elevator, another of the hospital personnel waited to escort them out of the hospital.  He led them through restricted access hallways to a side exit, where he wished them luck.  Luke took a deep breath, blinking in the midday sun, but the respite didn't last long.  The news cameras, waiting by the hospital's main entrance, spotted them as they tried to make it to the speeder.  Reporters hurled questions at Luke as the agents hustled him into the vehicle.

Luke had been mobbed before, certainly, by crowds of well-wishers and hero-worshippers.  He had been chased by reporters and hounded by paparazzi.  But this time it would be different.  No one would ask for his autograph.  No one would hold up a baby for him to touch, or take his hand to kiss it with grateful tears.  Now they would have questions, questions of pain and betrayal, questions of accusation.  Luke owed them answers, but he had no answers to give.

That's why he was so eager to go to prison.  The public could not follow him there.  Prison would be his refuge.


	2. Chapters 4-7

Chapter Four: Plots 

The Korust Building, at 42 stories high, was the tallest building in Endirion, the capital city of Pamylasia.  Like all tall buildings, it was associated with power, with the elite.  It was actually an office building housing a bank and several important businesses, which is why it remained in the hands of its owners rather than being taken over by the new government under President Akeeno.  The House of Barons, seven stories shorter but ten times more beautiful, had been confiscated by the people when the House had been formally disbanded, and it now housed the offices of the new government.  The Barons deeply mourned the loss of their beautiful headquarters, but the loss was more symbolic than practical, since they still owned 65% of the property on Pamylasia, and under Akeeno's government had been able to keep most of it.  But the Barons did not tend to see things so favorably, and they chafed under the limits set upon them.

So felt the elite group meeting now in the penthouse office of the Korust Building.  They had gathered on this day to watch from high above the events unfolding on the streets on the common level.  The central plaza was filled with people.  Initial estimates guessed that some one million spectators had assembled on the occasion of the arrival to their world of Luke Skywalker.  Skywalker himself, of course, would not land in the plaza.  To do so would be to invite a riot.  The government had wisely decided to have Skywalker's ship land at a remote, top secret location, from which he would be transported to prison until he could be charged.  But the people had gathered in the plaza to make their views known, and their views were being broadcast for all the galaxy to see.

In the penthouse, half a dozen vidscreens had been set up, tuned to a few of the many news reports being broadcast on the demonstration below.  The screens showed close-ups of what the Barons in the penthouse could only see from a distance.  Angry faces, some wet with tears, others shouting, placards reading "Jedi murderer" and "Skywalker = Death," and effigies of a tow-headed figure in black, a crude but unmistakable lightsaber hilt sticking out of its heart.  Effigies of Skywalker being burned, being torn apart, being pelted with rotten fruit and offal.  Little children holding up pictures of the Jedi and spitting on them.

Particularly impressed with this display of hatred, one of the Barons remarked, "Amazing!  Who would have thought such a well-loved person could become so despised?"

"Popularity is fickle, Khazir," another of the Barons noted, idly fingering the heavy gold chain around her neck as she watched the crowd below.  "More to be wondered at is why Skywalker should turn himself in?  Why did he not defend himself?"

"That is immaterial," dismissed Khazir with a wave of his hand.  "He has turned himself in, and all Pamylasia is in an uproar.  He will be convicted, of course, and receive the death sentence.  I'll wager that the government will even make an exception to their ban on public executions for his sake."  He opened a decanter of brandy and poured himself a glass.  "Nobles, I'd like to make a toast on this auspicious occasion," he announced, holding up the crystal goblet.  "To the end of Jedi Skywalker, and to our return to power."

Several of the others clapped and saluted his toast, but one of the older women, who still wore the sapphire signet ring which proclaimed a position she no longer legally held said, "Your toast is premature, Khazir.  Tildin's suspicions are well justified."

"With all due respect, Chancellor Marwan," the younger man said, referring to her former title, "what can it really matter whether he turned himself in or was arrested against his will?  The point is he is in custody, and people hate him."

"They do indeed hate him," Marwan agreed.  "But their hatred unites them."  She moved to one of the screens, showing a crowd tearing apart one of the effigies of the Jedi.  "You look at their faces and see hatred, boiling rage, even blood lust.  They hate this man enough to desecrate his image."  She moved away from the screen to stand at the window where she could see the crowd below.  "But look at the larger picture.  You see order, unity of purpose.  The crowd even moves as one being, flowing back and forth like the gentle lapping of the ocean.  Where is the turbulence, the chaos?  There is no looting, no one is throwing bottle rockets.  They do not vent their anger at each other.  Their anger has a direction, a purpose, a focus: Luke Skywalker."

"With such a focused crowd," Tildin broke in, "what need is there for us to restore order?"

"Indeed," agreed Marwan, "what need is there to declare martial law, when all people want is for the existing system of judgment to work?"

Khazir shook his head, impatient.  "I fail to see how that matters.  Their passions are inflamed, they are enraged.  It will only take a spark to set them off."

"But what spark will that be?"  Marwan demurred.  "They already have Skywalker.  No court on Pamylasia will acquit him.  As you said, he will be found guilty and executed.  Justice will have been done, and the people will be able to say, 'We have punished Akeeno's murderer.  Now let us live up to her dreams and honor her memory by pursuing her vision.'  They will have been vindicated by bringing her murderer to justice, and that vindication will make them strong."

"This is all going too smoothly," Tildin added.  "Maybe that's why Skywalker turned himself in."

Alarmed, Khazir speculated, "You don't think he knows about us, do you?"

"No," Marwan interjected with force, "I made certain of that."

"All the same, we should not underestimate Skywalker," Tildin cautioned.

"I have never underestimated him!"  Marwan objected.  "I have used every caution, every step of the way!"

"And yet we did not anticipate that he would turn himself in!"

"Underestimating and failing to anticipate are not the same thing.  In that sense, Khazir is right: it makes little difference whether he turned himself in or was arrested.  Either way he makes a convenient and satisfying scapegoat whom the people can blame for their troubles, and it leaves us no opening to seize control."

For several long minutes the Barons were silent, contemplating the situation before them.  At last, Khazir said, "Then what are we to do now?  He's been arrested and will be charged."

Marwan's eyes hardened with determination.  "Many of the judges are still bound to us.  Skywalker must not receive a fair trial."

"Or perhaps," Tildin interjected thoughtfully, "he should not come to trial at all."

"Do you mean let him go free?" Khazir protested.  "He will find out about us and come after us!"

"I am saying, what if he does not live to see his trial?  What if he dies in prison, the victim of an accident, or a scuffle with another inmate?  Then he will be out of our way, and the people will have failed in their duty to Akeeno's 'blessed memory' by failing to bring her killer to justice.  With the right pressure, we might then be able to sway events in our favor."

"What's more," Marwan added, "the Galactic Republic will be outraged.  They will withdraw their support of the government, and weaken them further."  She smiled, her thin mouth splitting her wrinkled face like a crack.  "You may be on to something there, Tildin," she complemented.  "I shall have to think on it, consider the various angles.  But I think you may have provided the spark we need."

Khazir frowned.  "There's just one problem.  Killing a Jedi isn't easy.  How do you propose to do it?"

"It may not be easy, but even Jedi Knights are mortal.  He will be unarmed and living among the most hardened criminals on the planet.  And don't forget, most of the prison personnel were appointed under our rule.  Surely all those factors might weigh in our favor?"

At last Khazir smiled, his earlier confidence returning.  "Thou art wise and powerful, O Chancellor," he said, addressing her in the old way of the court, "more cunning and strong than even the greatest of Jedi Knights.  Thou shalt triumph over all our enemies."  He bowed deeply to her.

Her lips still pursed in a tight smile, the former ruler of the House of Barons inclined her head slightly.  "May it be even so, according as thou hast said," she replied.  "I believe, Baron, that I will now drink that toast of yours."  

  
Chapter Five: Imprisoned 

Three hundred pairs of eyes could weigh a lot, Luke reflected, when they were all looking at you.  Luke stood holding his tray in the mess hall of the Maximum Security Prison of Pamylasia.  Due to his arraignment earlier in the day, he had come late to dinner, in fact had almost missed it.  His fellow prisoners had been noisily gulping down the last spoonfuls of their stew when he walked in.  Within seconds the entire hall had fallen silent, watching him with burning hatred.  It seemed even the most hardened criminals on Pamylasia had loved their President.  

Luke cast about the hall, looking for a place to sit.  A table not too far away was empty at one end, but by the time Luke reached it, the men had shifted along the bench, leaving no room.  They glared at him with a fierce challenge in their eyes.

Luke had been in enough dismal spots in the galaxy to know that generally the best approach to bullies was to out-tough them.  But something told him that any bravado on his part would only provoke these men into acting on what they were now barely content to express only in their silence. His best bet was to try not to draw attention to himself, something which he, unfortunately, could not help doing by virtue of who he was.

He approached another table only to have it fill as well.  By the third table, the prisoners' hostility was so great he could feel it boring into his skin.  He eased himself into a battle stance, shifting his grip on the tray so he could use it either as a weapon or a shield as needed, when one of the guards approached.  Prodding one of the prisoners with his club, he growled, "Make room here."

The prisoners grumbled but gave way, and by the time Luke had seated himself on the bench, the table was empty.  Sighing, he fell to his meal.  The stew was hardly tasty, but neither was it as bad as some of the rations he had endured during the leaner days of the rebellion.  He could still feel the hostile stares at his back.  Suddenly someone threw a salt shaker at him.  Without looking up, Luke casually reached up and caught it.  He sprinkled some on his food and then placed it on the table.

The prisoners murmured in shock and surprise at his quick reflexes.  After that their mood, while no less hostile, was nevertheless a little more cautious.  Perhaps the old fear of the Jedi's mysterious powers would keep him safe, Luke mused.  Force knew he could use all the help he could get.

The arraignment had been uneventful, and the results expected.  His promised lawyers from Coruscant had not been present.  Either they couldn't get there in time, or, Luke speculated, Leia was having difficulty finding anyone willing to defend the great Jedi turned bad.  He could hardly blame them.  So he had been left with an indifferent defense which had hastily acceded to all the prosecutors' demands, especially the request that no bail be set.  The judge had agreed, and Luke was sent not back to his solitary cell, but to this penitentiary.  It was actually less secure for holding a Jedi than solitary confinement had been. Not that he was planning to escape, but Luke suspected that even if the judge had known how ineffective the prison would be at containing a Jedi, it wouldn't have mattered.  Sending him among these hostile prisoners was no doubt intended to be part of his punishment.

A bell rang, signaling the end of dinner just as Luke swallowed the last mouthful of his stew.  He stood and joined the others in line to return their trays.  Someone from behind him tried to shove him, but Luke stepped gracefully and unobtrusively out of the way, causing the man to stumble.  The man turned and spat at Luke's feet.  "You'd just better watch yourself," he growled.

_I've heard that before, Luke said to himself, but he did not reply._

After dinner, the prisoners had an hour of exercise in the prison yard.  Luke found a bare space against the wall for himself, and thankfully everyone avoided him.  Although he continued to receive stares and the occasional choice epithet, the prisoners had apparently reached some kind of agreement among themselves, because no one attacked him.  He was left to himself all the rest of the evening until the bell rang again, signaling preparation for lock-down.

Luke returned to his cell to find the entrance blocked by a huge man, twice his size.  The dark face glared down at him, framed by wild, frizzy black hair.  "My name's Morfi," the man snarled.  Luke doubted he needed to introduce himself in return. Morfi continued, "President Dimi came from my hometown."

Luke had no idea how to respond to this piece of information, so he tried for as mild an expression as he could.

Abruptly, Morfi's face split in a wide grin, but not of the welcoming kind.  "I'm looking forward to sharing my cell with you."  He left the doorway and climbed into his top bunk.

_I bet you are, Luke thought as he settled into his own bunk.  _

The day's strain of being on his guard in his new surroundings had taken its toll on Luke.  He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep.  Not only did his cellmate's antagonism buzz around the edge of his consciousness like an angry hornet, but his thoughts kept returning to his arraignment earlier.

Luke had encountered angry mobs before, but never a crowd so full of hatred as the one through which he had been led to the courthouse.  The sight of his own image being burned in effigy had deeply unsettled him.  He had willingly given himself into the hands of a planet whose entire population wanted him dead, preferably by slow and painful means which they would be only too happy to supply themselves. Never had Luke felt so completely alone.

He had known it would be bad, of course.  He had expected the desertion of all his former friends and allies, yet he was far from blaming them, even felt he deserved no less. But anticipation and reality are two very different things.  To walk into that courthouse knowing that not a single soul was on his side had been the most devastating experience Luke had ever endured, even worse than that fateful day on Bespin.  Somehow before he'd entered the courthouse Luke had hoped beyond all hope to see Han, Leia, or Mara there.  Yet hadn't he himself told Han to stay with Mara?  And Mara – well, she had made her views perfectly clear on Myrmidon.  Again, Luke had expected her reaction.  She was a Jedi, with her own excruciating standards of honor.  How could she not be outraged by what he had done?  When Luke had made his decision to save her, he had known that it might very well cost him her love and respect.  He hadn't done it because he had thought it would make her happy, but again, anticipation and reality were two different things. How could he go on, knowing that Mara condemned him?  Especially when he thought she was right.

Luke's pondering was interrupted by the sound of the bunk above him creaking.  Morfi, too, was awake, and now the hulking man crept down off his bunk with surprising grace.  Luke lay silently, eyes closed as if in sleep, as his cellmate drew closer.

Through the Force, Luke saw Morfi's movement instants before it happened.  He reached up and grabbed Morfi's wrist, just as the prisoner brought his arm down toward Luke.  Shining in the man's fist was a knife.  Not a crudely made shiv, fashioned out of a piece of salvaged metal, but a real knife, a large one.  How had he gotten it? Luke wondered.

Still gripping the man's wrist, Luke forced Morfi back as he rose from the bed.  Morfi swung at him with his free hand, but Luke easily blocked the blow, twisting the man's arms behind him until he had him pinned to the floor.  Morfi grunted as he felt Luke's knee press into his back.  Luke plucked the knife out of Morfi's grip and slid it out of the cell into the walkway, safely out of reach.  "You can't kill me," he told Morfi.  "And I don't want to hurt you. So why don't you just let up?"

In response, Morfi bucked and heaved wildly until Luke finally released him.  He whirled to face Luke, his eyes gleaming evilly in the dim light.  "I'll not rest until you're dead!" he told the Jedi.  "Vengeance!" he screamed, as he picked up the cell's only chair and flung it at Luke.

Luke ducked, but maneuvering was not easy in the tiny cell.  Morfi charged him, fists swinging, and Luke stepped away, only to trip over the chair.  _This is really getting out of hand, he thought, as he and Morfi grappled on the floor.  He could take Morfi out, but he didn't think the guards – or his fellow prisoners – would appreciate him taking matters into his own hands.  Unsure what else to do, Luke yelled, "Guard!"_

Instantly his call was echoed by scores of mocking cries.  "Guard!" the other prisoners called out in imitation.  The prison filled with the clamor of cups being beaten against the bars, with hoots and stomping feet.  "Kill him, Morfi!" someone urged.  "Kill the Jedi bastard!"

Encouraged by their support, Morfi swung again at Luke, losing no self-confidence when he again missed.  He roared and attacked Luke with renewed vigor.

No guards would come, Luke realized as the din rang in his ears.  He was on his own.

It was going to be a long night.

*****

In the end Luke managed to subdue his cellmate, but not without violence.  Morfi, single-minded in his hatred for Luke, was impervious to Luke's Force suggestions of sleep, and Luke finally had to physically knock the man unconscious.  In the morning, the prison guards blamed Luke for the fight.  They also charged him with possession of the knife he had taken from Morfi.  But other than noting his misconduct in his records and issuing threats, they did nothing to him, nor did they place him in solitary.  They clearly wanted him to remain with his fellow prisoners.

Luke soon learned why when in the showers he was rushed by a dozen men.  He eluded them by leaping up onto the tiled partitions that divided the showers, his bare feet slipping on the wet tiles.  The guards "rescued" him, but again blamed him for the incident, although they did nothing.

That night Luke had another cellmate who was determined to render his own justice against Luke, and Luke dispensed with him as he had Morfi, to the outrage of all the other prisoners looking on.  In the morning, a riot ensued as soon as the cell doors were opened, and Luke only managed to escape it by climbing up the wire mesh that covered the walkways outside the cells.

By this time, however, the guards had finally wised up.  When the riot had been quelled and Luke came down from his safe perch, the guards surrounded him and hauled him off.  Luke prayed they would finally put him in solitary, but he was not too surprised when they led him into the showers.

"You're quite a troublemaker, aren't you, Jedi?" the sergeant of the guards sneered.

"And a nimble one at that," another guard added.  "That's not fair.  If you're going to play with the boys, it should be on an equal footing."

"But that's not the way you like to play, is it?" the sergeant continued.  "No, murdering people while they sleep in their beds: that's the way you like the odds."

All senses alert, Luke watched the guards surround him, drawing their clubs.  For the first time he realized how truly hopeless his situation was.  If the guards decided to kill him and he defended himself, it would only look worse for his case.  In desperation, he tried the truth.  "The prisoners are trying to kill me.  I appeal to you as keepers of the peace to protect me.  Akeeno herself believed in fair trials for all—"

"Don't you dare speak her name!" the sergeant reprimanded, pointing his club at Luke.  "You are not worthy to speak her name!  We'll keep the peace, all right.  We just want to even up the playing field."  He signaled to the others with a flick of his club.

Carefully attuned to the sergeant's mind, Luke realized that the guards would not kill him.  They wanted the prisoners to do the job, no doubt for appearance's sake.  But they did intend to injure him so that he could not continue to elude the prisoner's attacks.

The guards moved in on him, and Luke had only an instant to decide: fight and escape, or submit to their blows.  He chose the latter.  As the first blow fell, Luke used the Force to lessen the impact.  He could ease the blows while appearing to be more badly injured than he actually was.  Nevertheless, when flesh meets solid wood, it is the flesh which is bruised.  The first blow exploded upon him with blinding pain.  The third blow knocked him to the ground.  The Force provided some protection, but his cries of pain were real, and even a Jedi could not endure forever.

Chapter Six: Reunion 

"No, you may not see him," the warden said wearily.  "I've already told you; he's in solitary and may receive no visitors."

Mara glared fiercely at the warden, her patience long ago worn out.  Despite the fact that she was still confined to a wheelchair, she projected such an intimidating figure that the warden took a step back.  That Mara was flanked by a surly Wookiee and an infuriated Corellian only made a stronger impression.  Mara leaned forward, jabbing her bandaged hand at the official.  "Now you listen to me.  Don't think for one instant I'm fooled by this crap you're trying to load on me.  I know what game you're playing, and I also know my rights.  Your government signed the Intergalactic Treaty on Sapient Rights shortly after your esteemed late president -- whom you claim to honor -- came to power.  She felt so strongly about it that one of her first official acts was to ratify that treaty, which among other things states that prisoners have the right to visitation by their closest kin."

The warden pursed her lips.  "I know what the treaty says."

"Then let me in, or I'll be forced to appeal to the highest court on Pamylasia, maybe even to the Galactic Court itself.  Do you really want to provoke another intergalactic outcry in this case?"

Swallowing hard the warden wondered anxiously how far Mara really would go.  Her orders had been clear: no one was to be admitted to see Skywalker except his lawyers -- if they ever arrived.  "I'm sorry," she snapped.  "He is in solitary.  When he's released from solitary, then you may see him, but _not until then.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.  The assistant warden will show you out."  She pushed a comm button, summoning her assistant._

After the third try in as many days, however, her visitors were now familiar with the routine.  "We know the way," Han growled, gripping the handles of Mara's chair and propelling her out the door.

When they were back out on the street, Han observed, "I really don't know why you won't let me try the talking for once.  You're not any better at the diplomatic approach than me."

"Well at least I can do it with less swearing," Mara snapped in reply, still seething with impotent fury.  "Anyway, they wouldn't let you in to see him; you're not a close enough relative according to them.  I have to play the grieving wife."

"Pissed-off wife is more like it," Han muttered.  "You don't exactly cut a pathetic figure, even with splints on your hand and both feet in casts.  You could at least act like you're in pain.  Maybe cry a bit…."

Squeezing the armrest with her one good hand, Mara whispered urgently, "I simply have to see him."

Chewbacca moaned in concern.  Shooting him a glance, Han asked Mara, worried, "You still getting bad vibes from him?"

Mara nodded.  "I know he's in trouble, but I don't know what's wrong.  The impression is too fuzzy.  I'm almost positive he's not in solitary, though."

"Well," Han sighed, tapping the chair handles, "we've been to the warden, been to his kooky lawyer, tried to see the judge.  We can always just bust him out.  I know it's not the diplomatic thing to do, but if they're up to something fishy anyway, we may be justified."

Only half listening to Han, Mara tried to think of another approach.  An old newspaper blown by the wind wrapped itself around her leg.  She recognized a photo of one of the many demonstrations against Luke that were held every day.  That's all the news reports seemed to cover.…

"Wait a minute," Mara mused aloud.  "Maybe it's time I made a statement to the press."

Skeptical, Han asked, "You really think they'll listen to you?"

"Maybe not, but it would be a different angle on the story."

"Why don't we just go to the Republic Press Service?"  Han added.  "They surely have an office here, and they'll pick up the story for sure, create some off-world pressure."

Mara considered for a moment.  "I'd like to try the Pamylasian press first, give them a chance to be their own watchdog.  Let's find the nearest office."

An information cubicle provided them with an address not far away, and a short cab ride later, they entered the doors of the Endirion News Service.

"Now let me do the talking again," Mara urged as Han pushed her toward the reception desk, Chewie in their wake.

Han frowned.  "All right," he grudgingly ceded.  "But you'd better really work the grieving wife routine."

As they approached the desk, the receptionist looked up, clearly not recognizing them.  "May I help you?" he asked.

Mara fixed him in a green-eyed gaze that was riveting even without the Force backing it up.  "I am Mara Jade, wife of Luke Skywalker," she announced, her voice loud enough to be heard by everyone in the lobby.  "I thought you might be interested to know that for three days I have been trying to visit my husband in prison, and for three days my requests have been denied in violation of the Intergalactic Treaty on Sapient Rights.  I know that many personnel in your prison systems are from the old regime where they learned many lessons in how to abuse sapient rights.  Old habits die hard.  It seems that some of them are still in practice."

The receptionist colored.  "I don't see what you want us to do about it," he protested.  "You should talk to a judge."

"Believe me, I've talked to everyone," Mara answered.  "That's why I'm here.  One of the responsibilities of a free press is to expose corruption and abuse."  Her eyes narrowed.  "Or perhaps your press follows old habits as well?"

_So much for the grieving wife routine, Han groaned into inwardly.  __Time for them to push the little red button._

The receptionist didn't summon security, but he looked like he was about to.  "Ma'am, I don't --"

"Jedi Jade," a voice interrupted.  They turned to see a well-dressed woman standing in an open doorway nearby.  "I am Erison Tamalan, chief reporter here at ENS.  I once spent two years in prison for practicing a free press.  I would be very interested to hear what you have to say."  She extended an inviting arm toward the room from which she had come.  "Won't you come into my office and tell me all about it?"

*****

Within an hour a report was broadcast on the radio, detailing Mara's story.  By nightfall, both print and vid had picked it up, not only Pamylasian press but also the Republic Press Service as well.  Not all the Pamylasian press was sympathetic to Mara, but the story generated enough controversy and hard questions that when Mara, Han, and Chewie arrived bright and early at the prison the next morning, the warden informed them that Luke had been released from "solitary" and could now receive a visit from Mara.

Leaving an anxious and irritated Han and Chewie behind, Mara was wheeled down the hall and into a small room.  The room contained nothing but a desk with a speaker on it, placed up against a window looking into another room.  Her escort pushed her chair up to the desk, then left her alone, closing the door behind him.

Now that Mara was finally here, anxiety suddenly threatened to overwhelm her.  The memory of her bitter parting with Luke on Myrmidon still caused her stomach to knot up.  The evening after he left, she had watched the news coverage of Luke being hustled through the crowd.  Seeing him so lost among the jostling crowd, she realized how deeply he had gotten himself into trouble.

His dilemma tore at Mara's heart.  She couldn't bear to think of what he had done.  Her whole being recoiled at the knowledge that he had murdered Akeeno in her sleep.  The image of that cold-blooded assassin was so contrary to everything Luke believed in, everything he was.

But she couldn't afford to think about that right now.  More urgent was the fact that, whatever Luke had done, he needed her right now.  Her every waking thought for the past few days had been how to get to him.  Now that she was here, however, she didn't know what to say to this man, this murderer who had replaced her husband.

A movement in the other room caught Mara's eye.  The door had opened, and Luke entered, dressed in a blue prison uniform.  His head hung low over his stooped shoulders, and he moved awkwardly, almost clumsily, with none of his usual grace.  Mara almost didn't recognize him.

Luke looked up.  Seeing Mara he froze, his whole body in an attitude of shock.  He would have remained standing there for some time if the guard hadn't nudged him to sit down.  He collapsed into the chair.  Up close, Mara realized he had a black eye and a split lip.  His bloodshot eyes seemed hollow and deep, with a glimmer of tragedy in them, like a child whose nightmares have come true.  His eyes shone with unshed tears as he whispered her name, like a prayer.

His obvious surprise and relief to see her cut Mara to the quick.  She had not thought about how deeply her words must have wounded him.  "Don't look so surprised to see me."

One tear escaped his eye and slid down his cheek as he released a long sigh, breathing out some of the weight he had been carrying for the past few days.  "I thought after what you said... that you hated me."

To her embarrassment, Mara felt hot tears burning in her throat.  "I was angry, yes," she said, her voice husky.  "Still am, in fact, you little fool.  But I could never hate you."

"But your injuries -- you should be in the hospital."

"I'm well enough," she dismissed.  "Where I need to be is here with you."

Her words seemed to soothe him like a balm, and some of the tension in his body melted away.  Mara realized that he could probably content himself with doing nothing but look at her, but they didn't have much time.  The warden had allotted her ten minutes.  "What happened to you?" she asked, gesturing at his face.

His eyes flicked to the side, toward the guard that stood behind him at the door.  "I'm not very popular with the other prisoners," he observed.  He leaned forward with a sense of urgency.  "Mara, I need --," he caught himself.  "I need to see a lawyer.  Has Leia found anyone for me yet?"  

I need to get out of here, he sent.  They're going to kill me.

Who?  Mara returned.

The prisoners and the guards both.  I think it's a plot.

"Yes, she's found a team, some of the best on Coruscant," Mara said out loud.  Her mind reeled.

"When are they coming?"

"They're due tomorrow, in the afternoon, I think."

This news evidently did not please Luke, and Mara grew even more alarmed.  Are you going to be all right until then?

They're wearing me down.  The guards beat me up so I won't be able to elude the prisoners.  It's starting to work.  "Please, I need to see them as soon as they get here."  He looked genuinely fearful.

Han's offer to break Luke out of the prison suddenly seemed appealing.  "Is there anything I can do?"  It took me three days to get in to see you.  The warden wouldn't admit me.  I finally had to go to the press.

I know.  I saw it on the vid news last night.  The memory brought a smile to his face.  Mara didn't think she had ever seen a more beautiful sight.  "I think I'll be all right until then, just as long as I can see them right away."

Are you sure?

I have to be.

Maybe I should go to the press again.  Some of them were sympathetic.  If there's a public outcry -- 

No.  Luke's eyes narrowed in an urgent plea, and through their link, Mara could feel his danger sense tingling.  It might provoke them into speeding up a plan that so far they've been willing to take slowly.

"All right then," Mara voiced.  She was not at all pleased with the situation, but there was nothing she could do.  With a flash of insight, she realized Luke must have felt the same way when she was being tortured.  An exquisite tenderness filled her heart, and she longed just to be able to touch him.  She pressed the palm of her good hand against the cold glass that separated them.  Luke matched his own hand against hers.  Millimeters separated them, and yet the distance seemed impossible to span.

Luke felt it, too, and the tears welled up in his eyes again.

"Don't do that," Mara crooned, giving him a gentle smile.  "You know how I hate to see rainclouds in those sky blues of yours."

Her words brought an answering smile from him, and with an effort, he checked his emotions.  "I love you, Spice."

"And I love you, Sweets.  Don't you dare think for one minute that you have ever not been worth it for me.  You may drive me insane sometimes, but I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world."

Her words fell on Luke like water in a parched desert, so desperately did he drink them in.  His visible thirst for her assurance made Mara realize how deep his anguish must be.  She wanted to break through the glass that separated them, spirit him off to some safe place where no harm could ever come to him, and box his ears at the same time for getting himself into the situation in the first place.  _How could you do it, Luke? she asked in the deepest part of herself, where even his Force link could not hear her._

But the question would have to remain unanswered for now, perhaps forever, if he didn't survive.  He was still gazing at her with that expression of helpless love which wreaked such havoc in Mara's heart.  "Buck up; you'll be fine," she said, knowing how lame she sounded, but needing desperately to diffuse the intense emotion.

"I know," he smiled back, as if he really believed it.

The guard rapped on the door, signaling the end of their allotted time, and Mara sighed in relief.  "We'll get the lawyers in here as soon as they arrive," she said as the guard entered.

Luke nodded.  "Take care of yourself."

"I will.  And I'll see you again soon."  Luke's eyes were still on her when the guard finally wheeled her around and out of the room.

Rage built inside Mara as the guard wheeled her slowly down the hall.  Rage at her inability to help Luke, at the forces massed against him, and at her physical inability to walk down the hall herself.  She struck out the only way she could, with words.  "How'd he get those bruises in solitary?" she sneered at the guard.  "Are they supposed to be self-inflicted?"

"He started a fight with the prisoners.  That's what landed him in solitary," was the curt reply.

"Is that so?  Well, those bruises look awfully fresh considering he's been in solitary for three days."

"Isn't that something?" the guard remarked dryly as he wheeled her into the room where Han and Chewie were waiting.  Han's face grew grim when he recognized Mara's restless irritation.  Without a word, he seized the handles of her chair and pushed her out of the building.

Once in the street, Han said, "So give us the bad news."

In her frustration, Mara didn't even try to soften the blow.  "He's going to die in there."

"Emperor's black bones!" Han swore.  Chewie gave such an anguished howl that passersby stopped and stared at him in nervous concern.

"He thinks it's a conspiracy between the prisoners and the guards," Mara explained over Chewie's moans.  "We have to get him out of there."

Chewbacca tore at his fur in desperation.  "Take it easy, Chewie!" Han called.  "We'll get him out.  It's not like we haven't done this kind of thing before."

"Oh, that's great, Solo!" Mara rebuked.  "You're going to break him out?  And then what?  Hide him on some jerkwater planet for the rest of his life?  Good thinking!"

"Dammit, I don't care!" Han railed.  "My friend's gonna die in there, and I will do anything to get him out!"

"Han, this isn't the Empire here.  Pamylasia is a member of the Republic.  Luke assassinated the President, remember?  He's _supposed to be in jail!"_

"In a jail were there gonna kill him?  Where's the justice in that?  I'm getting him out!"

"You break him out, and you'll destroy any hope he has of vindication.  We have to get him out legally."

"Legally?  We already tried that and it didn't work."

While Han raved, Mara combed her mind for ideas.  She shared his frustration, and certainly her own history had prepared her more for covert, illegal activity.  But she knew Luke would not approve of such a solution.  "Han," she interrupted.  "Let's give it one more day.  Then if we can't get him released, you can go after him."

"Now listen --."  He stooped to a jab an angry finger in her face, but he didn't get any farther.  His partner suddenly seized him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him off his feet.  As Han dangled in the air, Chewie proceeded to berate him for his recklessness.  Surprised to find the Wookiee on Mara's side, Han at last relented.

"All right," he grumbled, rubbing his sore neck as Chewie placed him on his feet again.  "So now what?"

Mara tapped the armrest of her chair with her splinted hand, allowing the mild pain to cut through her confusion.  "You should contact Leia," she said at last.  "Let her know the situation, and try to find out what in all the stars happened to those lawyers.  Chewie and me will do what we can with that pathetic counsel they stuck Luke with."

"Yeah.  Maybe a pissed-off Wookiee will get results where the grieving wife didn't."

Chewie interjected with his own suggestion.  In reply, Han cocked a skeptical eyebrow.  "What'll that do?" he queried.

"What?"  Mara demanded.  Her knowledge of Wookiee was limited.

Chewie elaborated, gesturing emphatically.  When he finished, Han shrugged.  "It's worth a try, I suppose."

"Care to let me in on the secret?"  Mara rebuked.

Han scratched the scar on his chin.  "Most prisons have video surveillance to monitor the inmates.  Chewie pointed out they may have recorded the attacks on Luke."

"And in a free society," Mara added, comprehending, "those records should be available to the public."

"Or at any rate the judge should be able to order the prison to produce them.  And if she sees what's really going on, she might agree to set bail."

"Good thinking, Chewbacca," Mara complemented.  "Let's go, then.  And contact us as soon as you find out anything," she told Han.

"Same to you," he answered as he dashed off down the street, hailing a cabin.

"Well, Chewie," Mara sighed.  "Let's see if you can't reason with that lawyer of Luke's."

As he pushed Mara's chair to the curb, Chewie growled his certain reply.

Chapter Seven: The Gathering Storm 

The Jedi Master Anath Pipir placed the flowering plant gently into the hole he had just prepared for it.  When he had adjusted it to his liking, he scraped the moist humus around the plant, tucking it in as lovingly as he tucked his children into bed at night.  The black earth clung to his hands and packed under his fingernails, giving him a certain feeling of satisfaction.  He almost never wore gloves when gardening, preferring to bathe his hands in the soil occasionally.  There was something inherently clean about dirt.

He sat back on his haunches to survey his work.  The flowers he had planted lined one of the walkways in the garden of the Jedi Temple.  He had planted an entire bed of flowers today.  If things kept up the way they were going, he'd probably end up re-landscaping the entire garden.

Somewhere in the trees, a bird began to sing, and Anath smiled wryly, wondering how any birds continued to survive on Coruscant, let alone how they had gotten into the sealed garden of the Temple.  For that matter, Anath wondered how he survived.  Having grown up on a rural farm, he found the planet-wide city of Coruscant to be unnerving.  He and Luke had been talking for a long time about moving the Academy off-world.  Perhaps now there was finally a compelling enough reason to convince the rest of the members of the new order.

As he began to gather up his gardening tools, a voice hailed him.  "I'm over here, Lanari!" he called out.

The black clad figure of Master Lanari Barusch appeared on the walkway.  She folded her arms across her chest and glanced down at him.  "I might have guessed where you'd be," she offered.  Cocking an eyebrow at the flowers she said, "Nice handy work.  Not necessary, but nice."

He brushed his hands on his dirty pants leg.  "I figured we could use some more color."

"You figured you could just escape," Lanari corrected.  She crouched down in the pathway so she could confront him face-to-face.  "We can't delay any longer, Anath, and you know it.  We have to make a statement."  She searched his eyes, showing more sympathy then she usually was known for.

Anath wanted to look away, to avoid the truth.  Why did everyone have to look to him to lead them through this crisis?  But he knew why, and he knew Lanari was just as much a part of it as he was, even if he was the one who got stuck with the talking.  Lanari and Anath were Luke's first two apprentices, the first members of the New Order, so they had a certain seniority even over those members of the Old Order who had surfaced over the years to join Luke Skywalker's enclave.  But Anath was used to playing second hand to Luke.  It was hard taking command, especially under the present circumstances.

"You're right, of course," he acceeded.  "But what can we say?  If we defend Luke, people will say we are betraying justice.  But if we condemn him, we're all but saying he's guilty."

"He is guilty," Lanari pointed out.

Anger flashed through Anath.  "How can you say that?" he counteracted.  "There hasn't been a trial yet."

"Oh, come on, Pipir.  Do you think Luke would have turned himself in if he hadn't done it?"

"But this is Luke we're talking about," protested Anath.  "Do you really believe he's capable of cold-blooded murder?  And of Dimi Akeeno, no less."

The question made Lanari pause.  "I'm not sure what to believe anymore," she quietly confessed.

Now Anath felt only sadness.  "Not you, too, Lanari."

Her eyes met his again.  "I believe in Master Luke," Lanari iterated.  "I always have, and I always will.  I know he's a good man."  She shook her head sadly.  "But I just can't reconcile what he did with who he is."

"I know," Anath agreed.  "But we haven't heard the whole story yet."

"I have a hard time believing that any story can justify Akeeno's death."

"And that's the problem, isn't it?"  Anath said.  His gaze rested on the flowers he'd just planted.  So beautiful and yet so fragile.

He picked up the tools again and stood, his knees cracking loudly.  "Call the Council together," he said.  "It's time for us to talk."

*****

Within an hour, all eleven members of the Council had assembled.  Everyone studiously avoided looking at the chair Luke usually occupied.

Anath cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "You all know why we're here," he began.  "We can't put this off any longer, and none of us has heard from Luke."

"For that matter, none of us has heard from Mara," Kam Solusar interjected.  "Why hasn't she sent a message?"

"And where is she?"  Garamond added.

"I believe she's on Pamylasia," Anath informed them.

"You believe?  You mean, you don't know?"

"Princess Leia told me that her husband took Mara there."

"But I understood she had been severely injured," Garamond protested.  As one of the Old Order Jedi, he had never fully accepted Mara because of her previous connection with the Emperor.  "If she is well enough to travel to Pamylasia, she should be well enough to contact us.  Have you tried to contact her?"

Anath shook his head.  "I don't know where to reach her."

"This is ridiculous!"  Garamond fumed.  "How can we know how to proceed when Mara refuses to contact us?"

"For right now, that is immaterial," Lanari interjected, impatiently leaning forward in her chair.  "We have more immediate concerns to worry about."

"More important than knowing Luke's status?"

All pretense of order collapsed, as the Council members shouted, questioned, and argued with one another.  Anath felt his stomach twitch nervously as he watched the chaos.  He had never seen them at such loose ends.  Luke was by no means a domineering leader, but watching his comrades fall apart, Anath had a new appreciation for how much they had always relied on Luke's quiet presence.  Now Anath had to be the leader, not only for their own sake, but for Luke's sake as well.

"Order, please!"  Anath had to shout several times before the room again grew quiet.  Once he had their attention, he held it for several silent moments before at last speaking.

"Masters, I don't need to tell you that we are now facing the greatest crisis we have ever encountered.  Master Luke, our Master, has confessed to the murder of a beloved galactic leader.  We do not know why he did it."  Out of the corner of his eye he caught Lanari's movement, and added, "We don't even know if he in fact did it at all.  As I see it, we have at least three important tasks that we must address.

"One, we must help Luke.  Regardless of what happened, he is our Master, and our friend.  We need to learn his status and how we can assist both him and Mara.

"Two, we must help the people of Pamylasia.  They have been deprived of their president at a crucial time in their history.  We are committed to upholding justice and protecting those whose peace is threatened.  Neither they, nor the Senate, has yet asked for our help, but especially since one of our own may be responsible for this crime, we must be prepared to assist. 

"Three."  Anath paused, looking into the eyes of each of his comrades.  "We must respond to the betrayal of trust which this crisis has created, and we must do so without ourselves knowing the full truth of what has happened.  As you know, there are many people in this galaxy who've never trusted the Jedi, and they now see Luke's action as a justification of their suspicions.

"But for countless millions of others, Luke is a hero, well-known and loved.  There are those who have trusted Luke above any political or military leader.  To them Luke embodies everything that is good and true and just.  They feel truly betrayed."  Anath again paused, loathe to say his next words, but knowing that he had to name aloud the truth which they kept secret in their hearts.  "They feel betrayed, as does each of us."

The Council members shifted uncomfortably at Anath's assertion.  No one wanted to admit it, but no one could deny it either.

"These are the tasks we face," Anath continued.  "It may seem impossible to do all three, but at the risk of sounding cliche, I can honestly say that our future depends on it.  And right now, I feel that the most important thing we need to do is respond to the galaxy's sense of betrayal.  We need to demonstrate that the Jedi are trustworthy.  And we must somehow do it without abandoning Luke."  Anath fell silent, allowing his words to seep in.

One of the newer members, Idi Athar, was the one who broke the silence.  Shaking back her mane of russet hair, she said, "That's the real trick, isn't it?  Here on Coruscant, sentiment is running very high against Luke."

Hamsa Jerat, the oldest of the Old Order knights, and the one who had been longest with Luke, offered, "We are in danger of letting our feelings for Luke cloud our vision."  Her voice was calm, soothing, with no hint of the tension everyone else exhibited.  "We must think of how we would handle the situation if it were not Luke, but someone else.  An apprentice, perhaps, or someone who had only recently attained knighthood.  What would we do then?"

Garamond answered, "If an apprentice committed this crime, we would be forced to renounce him and expel him from the order as a potential darksider."

The admission was echoed by troubled murmurs.  Everyone knew it was true.

Everyone except Hamsa.  "Would we?" she asked, her voice still calm and gentle.  "Or would we first ascertain whether or not he was guilty?"

"But Luke has confessed --"

Hamsa shook her head.  "Confessions, I'm afraid, mean very little.  Any number of reasons can lie behind a confession, actual guilt being only one.

"A terrible crime has been committed.  Our Master stands accused of that crime.  These issues are related, but they are not identical."  She paused, her eyes resting on Anath.

Awareness dawned on him, and he smiled gratefully at her.  "We can condemn the crime while reserving judgment on the guilt."

Lanari shook her head.  "It won't be enough," she disagreed.  "There are those who want Luke's head on a pike."

"Yes, they do," Hamsa agreed.  "But that is not justice.  We are not agents of punishment or vengeance, but justice.  We must demonstrate clearly that we will seek fair justice against any criminal, even a Jedi, but we must also demonstrate that all accused criminals deserve justice.  Even a Jedi."

"Hamsa is right," Anath declared.  "I'll work on a draft statement.  Let's meet again in an hour to review the statement and call a press conference.  Once that is done, we'll see what we can find out about Luke and Mara's status on Pamylasia.  Any other discussion?"  No one spoke.  "All right, then.  We stand adjourned."

As the others stood to leave, Lanari leaned closer to Anath.  "I still don't think it will be enough," she doubted.

"Maybe not, but it will be a start.  But it's all we can do right now.  Come on, Lanari, don't give up on me now.  I need you."

"You don't need to worry about that," she assured him.  "We will get through this."  She smiled at him.

He returned her smile, but it did not reach his eyes.  _How I wish Luke were here, he thought.  __Oh, Luke, what have you done?  _


	3. Chapters 8-11

Note:  I wrote this story a couple of years ago and had it saved on an old disk.  In transferring it to my computer, it seems to have become possessed by the Dark Side of the Force.  Chunks will be missing or will mysteriously repeat themselves.  I am trying to catch all this, but I may miss some, so if you notice something that totally does not make sense, please bring it to my attention!  Fortunately I have a good old fashioned hard copy and am able to replace the stuff that got eaten.  Thank you to my kind reviewers!  This is a nice, long story, by the way, with over thirty chapters.  It is taking a while to post, tho, because of the aforementioned problems. Chapter Eight: Desperation 

"How many times do I have to tell you, there is nothing more I can do?  The judge has decided he'll remain in jail.  There's no point challenging it."

Sitting in the tiny office of Luke's lawyer, her wheelchair sandwiched between a chair overflowing with Chewbacca and the lawyer's all-too-clean desk, Mara counted to ten silently, squeezing her right hand into a tight fist, the nails digging painfully into the still tender flesh of her palm.  The bacta treatment, which admittedly Mara had broken off too soon when she had discharged herself from the Pandar City Hospital, had not completely healed the damage done to her hand.  She closed her eyes, and the smell of her own burning flesh as her torturers held her hand over an open flame filled her nostrils once again.  She felt her skin bubbling and blistering as she tried to hold the pain in, knowing Luke was nearby, feeling what she felt, powerless to help her.  _Don't give in, Luke, she thought.  __Don't give them what they want._

Beside her, Chewbacca chuffed softly, and Mara opened her eyes, willing herself back into the present.  She knew what he wanted, but she wanted to try her way one more time.

"Counselor Apurta," she said, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice, "I understand that you have no desire to act as Luke's defender.  I know that you were assigned to this case...."

"And I fully intend to carry out my duties to the best of my ability," Apurta asserted defensively.

"Then I would think you would want to ensure you had a client to defend."

"And I think you overestimate the danger to your husband," Apurta retorted.  "We are a free democracy now.  The days when undesirables were murdered in jail before coming to trial are past."

"I wish I could share your confidence, Counselor, but I saw the bruises myself."  Mara let her anger seep into her voice as she shot Chewie a quick but meaningful glance.  _Okay, your way.  "If we do not get Luke out of there, an injustice equal to Akeeno's murder will soon take place."_

Apurta clearly took offense at the comparison and was about to challenge Mara, when she glanced suddenly at Chewbacca.  The Wookiee had begun to breathe heavily, his chest heaving, grunting as he exhaled.  He seemed to grow larger with each breath, as if he were an overheated engine about to explode.  He couldn't go into full-scale berserker mode as he used to in the old days with Han.  This was no cantina, nor was Apurta some petty crime lord they were trying to beat into submission.  Still, a taste of enraged Wookiee could do wonders in convincing people to see your point of view.

"Chewie, please, you must control yourself," Mara said, but she didn't sound as if she meant it.  Her gaze locked onto the nervous lawyer like a heat-seeking missile.  "You must understand, Luke is his ship family.  Among spacers, when ship family is endangered, nothing will stand in the way of protecting them."

Apurta's eyes grew wider, and to Chewie's breathing became more labored.  Mara again looked at the Wookiee and said, "Chewie, killing Apurta won't help."

With a low growl, Chewie bared his fangs, and his long claws unsheathed themselves against his knees.  The lawyer swallowed hard, then tore her gaze away from the Wookiee to look questioningly at Mara, "Do you really believe your husband is in such danger?"

"I know it."  Mara leaned forward.  "Not with the instinct of a wife, but with the certainty of a Jedi."

For a long moment, the two women held each other's gaze.  Even Chewbacca fell silent, although he retained his menacing pose.

When at last Apurta spoke, it was not as an enemy who had been cowed into submission, but as an ally prepared to help.  "All right," she agreed.  "But if we're going to ask the warden to hand over possibly incriminating tapes, we had better have a warrant issued by the judge herself."

*****

The judge was not happy about the request, but they were within their legal rights.  Furthermore the judge had not appreciated the bad publicity about their legal system spreading throughout the galaxy due to Mara's difficulties in obtaining permission to see her husband.

The warden was even less happy, and at first refuse to hand to tapes over.  Even after they produced the judge's warrant, the warden was still highly uncooperative.  They were forced to wait over three hours before the tapes were finally produced.

With a week's worth of tapes of from over thirty cameras, trying to find evidence concerning Luke would be like looking for a lone starship in the vast emptiness of space.  But Mara pointed out to the others that she had first met Luke under those precise conditions, with the pirate ship _Wild Karrde _on which she had been serving just happened to cross paths with Luke's disabled ship over ten years ago.  If not for that coincidence, Luke would have perished alone in space.  No one else, however, was particularly encouraged by those odds.

By now Han had joined them, with assurances from Leia that the lawyers would arrive the next day, a prospect which heartened Apurta significantly.  The foursome took the boxload of tapes to the nearest library and plugged themselves into four consoles to begin the arduous process of reviewing the evidence.

They were soon able to eliminate some cameras as being unlikely to produce anything relevant.  The night tapes revealed the prisoners' demonstrations after lockdown every night since Luke's imprisonment.  Without sound, it would be difficult to prove anything, but Han thought he could clearly see prisoners on one tape mouthing the word "Jedi."  That tape went into the evidence stack.

After an hour Mara discovered the tape of the morning riot, with Luke escaping up the wire mesh, clearly the pursued and not the aggressor.  But it was Apurta who noticed several tapes were missing from the sequence.  Through careful review of all the tapes filmed before and after the missing sections, they were able to find a relatively healthy Luke followed, after the blank space, by a Luke who had clearly been beaten.  Other blank spaces likewise were followed by evidence of an increasingly battered and exhausted Luke.

Adding one of the most recently made tapes to document the severity of Luke's condition, they raced off in search of the judge.  By now it was late evening, and the judge had gone home for the night.  They located her address, and within half an hour presented themselves on her doorstep.

The judge herself answered the door, and she was not pleased to see them.  "What do you mean, disturbing me here in my home?  Come to my office in the morning, and I'll review the tapes there."  She started to close the door.

"I apologize, Your Honor," Apurta said, "but surely the inconvenience is not that great, when a man's life is at stake?"

This gave the judge pause.  She scrutinized the lawyer's face carefully.  "You really believe he's in danger?"

Holding forth the tapes, Apurta asserted, "The evidence we have discovered is indeed damning, Your Honor."

The judge hesitated.  Unbenownst to the foursome, this particular judge had begun her tenure during the rule of the Barons.  She secretly preferred the old times, and the Barons had continued to show favor to her.  They had already contacted her several times to offer their insights into how they thought this case of the Jedi should be handled.  She did not treat their insights lightly.

But she also knew that a new day had dawned on Pamylasia.  The Barons no longer ruled, and as much as she admired them, she loved Pamylasia more.  The thought of those tapes being broadcast by the press troubled her deeply.  The Barons still had influence with her, but they did not control her.

"Very well," she acquiesced.  "I will look at them."

She ushered them into her study, where Apurta popped the tapes one by one into the computer and outlined what they had found.  The judge did not interpret the tapes to quite the extreme the others did, but she could not deny that Luke's condition was growing alarmingly worse.

"All right," she relented.  "I'll arrange another hearing for bail tomorrow."

"Another hearing?"  Han protested.  "When the prison officials learn of it, they'll make sure he's dead before it happens!"

The judge's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Apurta added, "Your Honor, clearly at the very least the prison officials have chosen to turn a blind eye to whatever is happening to Skywalker.  The missing tapes prove that they have deliberately covered up evidence."

"But if they learn that we know it, that they are under suspicion, surely they will not jeopardize their careers by murdering him?"

"Someone can always be blamed, Your Honor," Apurta pointed out.  "And my client will be just as dead."

The judge stared at the computer screen, the image frozen on Luke's bruised face.  Long moments passed as Luke's family held their breaths, waiting, praying for the judge to come to the right decision.  Waiting was not something any of them was good at.

But it was Apurta who finally broke the silence again.  "Your Honor, our beloved Dimi deserves to have her murderer come to a trial.  If this man dies in prison, how will justice have been served?  It will not even have been proved that he is, in fact, her murderer."

The judge's gaze flicked up to the lawyer's face, and her eyes softened slightly, but she remained silent.

"You can reconsider, and set a new bail without a hearing," Apurta reminded her.

"That is usually done in cases of mortal illness."

Gesturing at the screen, Han said, "If that ain't a mortal illness, I don't know what is!"

The judge shrugged, almost amused.  "I see your point.  It's unusual, but...." She cocked an eyebrow at Han.  "Could you guarantee the bail?  I really can't set it at anything less than one million Republic credits."

Mara's head reeled at the sum.  She should have expected it, yet it still came as a shock.  Once she could have staked her shipping business with Talon Karrde for that amount, but she had given all that up when she became a Jedi.  While the Knights never lacked for money, none of them were rich.  Almost all the financial gifts or boon that had ever come Luke's way he given to the Academy.  She could not possibly guarantee that amount on the spot.

Fortunately, she didn't have to.  Han spoke up, "My wife has the money -- Luke's sister.  All we have to do is call her.  She'll guarantee it."  While Leia was almost as generous with her money as Luke was, as heir to the House of Organa, she had a lot more capital at her disposal, and Han certainly had money from his own ongoing business dealings.  Although his earnings were not as large as they had been when he and Chewie ran illegal goods during the days of the Empire, nevertheless as a settled married man with kids he was far more frugal than he ever used to be.  Even though Han was sure Leia had already had to front a lot of money to secure Luke's lawyers, he was confident that between the two of them they could guarantee the amount.

"All right, then," the judge agreed.  "Call her.  I want to speak to her myself, but I'm sure the President of the Republic's word is trustworthy."

In an uncharacteristic display of diplomacy, Han chose to ignore whatever underlying message the judge meant by that cryptic remark.

"First thing in the morning," the judge promised, "I'll have the details worked out for his release."

But that was still not enough.  "First thing in the morning?!"  Mara echoed.  "He might not live that long!"

Not unsympathetic, the judge shrugged.  "I'm sorry.  They're in lockdown by now, and I don't have the authority to get him out after lockdown."

An uneasy silence filled the room.  "Surely something can be done, Your Honor?" Apurta asked.

The judge considered, "I _could request he be moved to solitary...."_

"No good," Han interrupted.  "That would tip them off for sure."

Shaking her head, the judge said, "Then he'll have to wait until morning."

But would that be too late?

  
Chapter Nine: The Final Blow 

At that time, the prison was indeed in lockdown, but Luke was not to remain in his cell.  Every night Luke had found himself with a different cellmate, as a succession of inmates got their chance -- and failed -- to take out the Jedi.  But that night Luke found himself alone, a situation he in no way found comforting.

His family's efforts on his behalf had not gone unnoticed, and the Barons had used their influence to pressure the prison officials into taking care of the situation immediately.  Tonight was the night Luke Skywalker would die.

Despite his misgivings, Luke took advantage of his solitude to try to get some genuine, much-needed sleep.  No sooner did the buzzer sound locking all the doors than Luke's head hit the pillow and he fell into a deep sleep.  Within half an hour after lockdown, however, he was awoken by the clanging of the guards banging their clubs on the bars of his cell.

"Wake up, Jedi!  You have an appointment to keep."

Despite the deep sleep he'd been enjoying, Luke's Jedi skills meant he was instantly alert upon waking.  As calmly as if he had been expecting them, Luke got up.  As he exited the cell, six guards closed ranks around him.

"Where are you taking me?" Luke asked in a conversational tone.

"Shut up!  No talking!"

Of course he had expected no answer, but any clue he could get would help.  As they marched down the cell block, Luke realized that all the prisoners were lined up in their doorways, watching as the guards led him away.

"So long, Jedi!" someone called out.

"It was nice knowing you!" another sneered.

For a minute, the calls and farewells, punctuated by the occasional curse, bounced off the concrete walls.  Everyone knew that he would not be returning.  Somehow, Luke would have to be prepared.

The head guard yelled for everyone to be quiet, and once again the prison was dominated by the eerie, silent stares of the inmates, their faces lit with gruesome smiles as they watched Luke being escorted to his destiny.

Luke found himself being led to the showers, which was not unexpected.  Certainly, Luke reflected, the showers were easy enough to clean up afterward.  Somewhat strengthened by his brief nap, Luke put all senses on alert as he was led to the back of the showers.

Four more guards were waiting for him, along with five prisoners, a few of whom Luke had already had the pleasure of sharing a cell with.  One lone bulb cast a cold blue light on the faces surrounding him.  The five inmates took up positions around Luke, while the guards formed another ring outside them.  Each of the guards had stun prods in their hands, but the prisoners were unarmed.  _An old-fashioned death by beating, Luke reflected.  He took it as a good sign.  It meant they still had no idea how to properly kill a Jedi, which gave him some time to come up with a plan._

While everyone stood around savoring the anticipation of beating him to a bloody pulp, Luke took the opportunity to appeal to the head guard.  "Sergeant!" he called out confidently, his voice ringing with the Force, "I appeal to you as a servant of the law to call off the attack."

The other guards laughed, and one of the prisoners stepped forward, swinging a huge fist at Luke's head, which he avoided effortlessly.

"What attack, Jedi?  I don't know what you're talking about!" the sergeant sneered.  

Two men closed in on either side of Luke, trying to grab his arms, but he slipped between them.  "How will justice be served by murdering me in prison?  The people deserve a trial!" Luke tried again, as he eluded several more attempts at capture.

"Oh, justice will be served, all right, make no mistake about that."

All five of the men tried to rush him at once.  "Your president believed in fair trials.  She would not want this," Luke rebuked, once again dancing out of their grasp.  He spun away from them, approaching the outer ring of guards, and one of them jabbed his stun prod into Luke's side.  Luke sucked in his breath as pain coursed through him.  His muscles temporarily seized up from the charge, and he could not avoid the men as they closed in around him.  One grabbed his arms and held them behind his back.

"Don't you dare speak of our president!" the sergeant barked.  "Don't you dare speak at all, filthy Jedi!"

Out of the darkness, a fist flew toward his face.  Luke twisted away, and the man holding him took the blow.  _Okay, persuasion didn't work; time for action.  Luke went on the offensive as the man holding him released his arms and fell to the floor.  Luke turned and met one of the others charging at him with a fierce blow to the man's trachea.  He sank to his knees, gurgling for breath.  But before he could take out another prisoner, three guards rushed him with their prods.  Three simultaneous charges could easily knock a person unconscious.  Luke screamed in agony, his legs telescoping beneath him, but he did not black out._

The remaining prisoners, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of Luke's attack, now closed in on him once more.  One of them hauled Luke to his feet, still moaning, while the other two used him as a punching bag.  It took Luke several seconds to break free.  He managed to land some punches of his own on one of the men, but he only rattled him.  The man did not fall.  One unarmed Jedi against fifteen men were not usually such long odds, but the beatings he had already received had weakened him.  He still eluded most of the prisoners' attacks, but each blow took its toll.  Even if he did somehow manage to take out all the prisoners and the guards, he would barely have enough strength to drag himself out of the showers, let alone escape.

Luke's knees trembled, and he could no longer hear the taunting and laughter of the guards.  Time slowed down, not with the clarity of battle sense, but with the numbing approach of death.  A bright light flashed before Luke's eyes, but was it the shock of a stun prod or the realization that he would not survive this battle?  Although he somehow remained standing, Luke could feel himself falling inward, sinking into the welcoming arms of oblivion.  If only he could rest, if only....

That was it!  A Jedi trance!  As the idea lanced through his brain, everything around him snapped back into real-time.  With a surge of adrenaline, Luke twisted and slipped his way through his captors, giving him precious moments to plan.

A Jedi trance would put him into a state to all appearances like death.  Unless they ran a medical exam on him, they would never know the difference.  Eventually they would figure it out, but until then it could buy Luke more time, and even begin his healing.  That is, if the trance fooled them and they didn't keep beating him.  Or they didn't decide to snap his neck or put a blaster bolt through his brain to make certain.  Or decide to incinerate him immediately, or lock him up in the freezer overnight.  Once in the trance he would be completely defenseless.

And how would he get out of it?  He could set up a verbal code to snap him back to consciousness, but who would be likely to say it?  It would have to be a phrase no one would use poking around him in the first few minutes of the trance, but which someone hopefully would use before they disposed of his body.  "He's dead," "Time of death...," these phrases seemed too risky.

Of course even without a wake-up phrase he would eventually come out of it anyway, but he could be out for mere minutes or for weeks without a phrase.  And then there was the concern that he wouldn't be able to enter the trance correctly.  A Jedi should be a state of calm before entering a trance, but exhausted and in the middle of a fight, any number of things could go wrong.  He might not go deep enough into the trance.  He could mess up the wake-up code.  He could send himself into a genuine coma, even death itself.

But he was running out of choices, even as he was running out of time.  His course decided, Luke had to make it look good.  He slowed down his evasion, allowing several punches to land.  He swayed unsteadily, arms hanging loosely at his sides, as one of the prisoners, growling with blood lust, threw a solid punch straight into his face.  In the instant before it landed, Luke flashed out a Force projection to all the men in the room, "Death!"  Then he felt the fist connecting with his nose in an explosion of broken cartilage and blood.  Luke whirled and slammed up against the wall of the shower, then bounced off and slumped to the floor, lifeless.

The prisoners got in several kicks to his body and head before the sergeant waved them back.  "Stop!" he ordered.  Everyone watched Luke, but he didn't move.  The sergeant approached him and prodded him with the stun.  Luke's muscles contracted reflexively from the charge, but he made no sound or voluntary motion.  The sergeant knelt down and inspected him.  Luke's nose was smashed, and his collision with the wall had opened a huge gash on his forehead.  The sergeant felt for a pulse, but found nothing.  He looked at his comrades, a smile on his face.  "He's dead."  He nodded at the prisoners, panting heavily above him, their eyes still blazing with the heat of battle.  "You boys did a good job.  We won't forget it."

He stood up again and flicked his hand at five of the guards.  "Kindly escort these gentlemen back to their cells.  The rest of you, carry this deadwood to the infirmary."

As the first group rounded up the prisoners, offering their congratulations, the rest of them hoisted up Luke's body between them.  They carried him into the infirmary and laid him out on one of the examination tables.  The doctor on duty, who had been expecting them, asked, "Want me to declare him dead now?"

The sergeant shook his head.  "No, leave it until morning.  We'll say we found him dead in his cell."  He glanced at one of the other guards.  "You'll take care of the vid tapes?"

"Already done," came the reply.  "We won't let that lawyer get away with it twice."

The sergeant looked back down at Luke, just as the doctor pulled a sheet over the Jedi's face.  With a satisfied smile, he pronounced, "That's it, then.  Gentlemen, I hope you have a very pleasant night."

They chuckled, congratulating each other and patting each other on the back as they left the room.  The doctor locked the door so no one would disturb the body, and they all returned to their posts.  It would be a pleasant night indeed.

Luke Skywalker was dead.  

Akeeno had been avenged.

Chapter Ten: Release 

First thing in the morning, Mara, Han, Chewbacca, and Apurta appeared at the Judge's office.  True to her word, the Judge had the papers for Luke's release in hand.  She had even taken the liberty of engaging a police escort, something Han in particular chafed at, but which nevertheless was probably a good thing to have.

They arrived at the prison, where the warden came to meet them in the lobby, almost as if she were expecting them.  Several guards accompanied her.  She had a contented look on her face that made Mara uneasy.

"We're here to get Luke out," Han announced, holding out the papers.  "The Judge reconsidered and granted him bail.  You are instructed to release him into our custody immediately."

The warden's smile grew chilly.  "I am sorry, but it is my sad duty to inform you that Luke Skywalker was found dead in his cell this morning."

Mara felt as if her heart had been swallowed up by a black hole that suddenly appeared in the center of her chest.  She could not move.  Han blinked twice in incomprehension, then scowled, "Look, I don't know what kind of game you're trying to pull --."

Calmly, the warden interrupted, "I assure you this is no game.  During the night, his cellmate beat him to death.  I am truly sorry," she said, in a voice which clearly did not mean it.

The black hole in Mara's chest began to grow, then was shattered by an ear-splitting howl as Chewbacca screamed in grief.  Han leaped for the warden, his hands closing around her throat before she could get away.  "I'll kill you!  I'll kill you, you bastard!" he shrieked, as the guards and the police escort scrambled to pull him off the warden.  One of the guards got Han in a choke hold, while two others pulled at his arms, but Han did not release the warden.  "Let her go," one of the guards yelled, "or I'll be forced to arrest you."

More guards poured into the room, weapons drawn, as Mara saw that Chewie was about to go to Han's aid.  "Stop it!" she ordered, the words ripping out of her throat.  "Chewie, stop it!  There's no point!"

Somehow Mara's words got through to them.  Chewbacca continued to moan, but he did not attack the guards, and Han finally released the warden, who backed off, gasping and rubbing her sore neck.  Apurta stood back to the side, clutching her briefcase to her chest.

Mara let rage fill her to replace the grief.  Rage she could deal with.  She rolled her wheelchair up to the still trembling warden.  Only the iron clad will of the Emperor's Hand could hold back all Mara wanted to say, all she wanted to do.  For one full minute she let her laser green eyes bore into the warden, through her bravado, to the deepest core of her soul.  The warden could feel Mara's anger branding her psyche forever.  At last Mara spoke, her voice like shards of glass.  "You have no idea what a serious mistake you have made."

The warden shuddered, then said, "Is that a threat?"

"It is a statement of fact.  Now," Mara rolled even closer, "I will see my husband."

Any protest the warden might have made was burned away by Mara's fiery gaze, and she relented, nodding to one of the guards.  The man moved to take the handles of Mara's chair, but she propelled herself out of his grasp.  Silently, he gestured her through her door and led her down the hall to the infirmary.

Mara saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing, as she rolled down that long hallway to a destination she could not bear to face.  _Why can't I feel anything? her innermost voice cried out.  __Why didn't I feel his death?  Perhaps she would never feel anything again.  It seemed as if the Force itself had left her._

The guard opened the door and pointed her through.  There, stretched out on a table, lay a figure shrouded in a white sheet.  The sight hit her like a kick to the gut and the black hole in her chest began to grow again.  She could not enter the room.

Noticing her distress, the guard silently wheeled her into the room up to the table.  He then took up a position next to the door, but Mara rasped, "Leave me," in a voice that could not be disobeyed.  He exited and shut the door, leaving her alone.

The minutes dragged by, and Mara sat silently staring at the figure before her.  She was never afraid of anything.  She, Mara Jade, never avoided any reality, no matter how unpleasant.  But this she could not face.  _You see what you've done to me, Sweets?  My heart is actually breaking.  Who'd have thought it?_

The black hole burst again, melting over her body, warm and liquid, like blood, freeing her to move again, to breathe, to cry.  Hot tears filled her eyes, and she drew the sheet down, uncovering his face.  She didn't wince at the sight.  She scarcely saw his bruised and battered features.  She only saw the man she loved, lying there peacefully sleeping.  Gently, she laid her head on his chest, her arm cradling him.  He felt so warm, so soft, so comforting….

With a shock, she sat upright.  Warm?  _Soft?  She searched his face.  Deeper, she searched him with the Force._

Alive.  He was alive.  A trance!  Of course, why hadn't she realized it before?  No wonder she hadn't felt his death – _he wasn't dead.  And she knew exactly what words he had set up to wake him.  The same words she had given him when they almost died at the Emperor's hidden fortress, where he'd impulsively proposed to her while they awaited certain doom.  Certain doom which they somehow always managed to elude.  A smile welled up from the bottom of her soul and blossomed on her face as she said, with sly affection, "I love you, Luke."_

Instantly his chest rose with an intake of breath, and his eyelids fluttered briefly before opening.  His eyes homed in on hers.  

"What a flair for the melodramatic you have, Skywalker," she smiled at him.  "And I thought you Tatooenes were supposed to be simple people."

"I must spend too much time hanging around Corellians," he replied.

She gently brushed the hair from his eyes.  "Speaking of which, Han almost murdered the warden."

"Good for him."  Luke coughed, then moaned in pain.  The trance had not healed him much.  He had trouble focusing, suggesting a concussion, and he suspected several of his ribs were cracked or broken.

Mara's eyes narrowed in concern.  "You're in bad shape, Sweets."

"I know," he wheezed.

"Never fear.  We convinced the judge to release you on bail.  We're taking you out of here."

Luke managed a smile.  "That's the best news I've had in a long time."

"Then let's get going."  She wheeled away from the table and flung open the door, startling the guard outside.

"All the prison guards I've ever known together didn't have the brains of a mynock among them," she sneered, "but I would have thought even you could tell a dead man from a live one."

The man stared into the room to see Luke rising gingerly from the table.  All color drained from the guard's face, as if he truly had seen a ghost.

"Now bring his things immediately," Mara ordered.  "I'm taking him out of here."

Chapter Eleven: The Call 

"Look at these bills!" exclaimed Amil Aajulon, acting President of Pamylasia.  "I can't believe how much it's costing us to keep that murderer in custody.  And in a safe house, no less.  Please, explain to me again why we're keeping him in a safe house, with all these expensive guards and roadblocks and --."

Chief of Security Bopolur sighed and said for at least the third time that morning, "Because the security risk at the hospital was too high.  Protesters and would-be assassins kept breaking into the hospital.  It was disturbing to all the real patients.  So as soon as Skywalker was able to walk, they kicked them out.  No hotel would take him, for the same reasons, so we have to put him up in a safe house."

"At great expense to the public, and all because that stupid judge let him out of prison," Aajulon grumbled.

Imo Nuredeen, one of Akeeno's most trusted advisers, shook her head.  The morning was not going well, and she didn't know how much longer she could endure Aajulon's temper tantrums.  "He was almost killed in prison.  The judge had to let him out."

"It's ridiculous," Aajulon protested.  "Now we must protect the man who killed our president?  Don't get me wrong, but part of me wishes he had died.  At least then our problems would be over."

"Skywalker's death will hardly solve our problems," Nuredeen observed.  "We're still only a fledgling democracy.  In addition to all the problems of an exploitive economic system, the inequitable distribution of resources, the lack of education and poor employment rate --."

"I know, I know," Aajulon interrupted.  "And the new election to replace Dimi is only five months away, and we have this trial with this murderer whom we must billet at our expense...."

Aajulon's laundry list of complaints was cut short when the door to the Cabinet chamber opened, and an older man walked in, his face care worn and sad.  He was dressed entirely in white, the color of mourning.  Upon his entrance, everyone in the room stood up.

Aajulon approached him, arms open in welcome.  "Radu, you honor us with your presence.  But after all you've been through, you really should not trouble yourself with these Cabinet meetings."

Akeeno's widower clasped Aajulon arm in greeting.  "It is no trouble, really.  It provides something of a distraction.  I don't mind being asked to come."

Aajulon raised an inquiring eyebrow.  "Asked?"

"I asked him to come," Nuredeen volunteered.  "Radu's opinions have always been of great value."

Trying to hide his disquiet by ushering Antiradu Akeeno into a seat, Aajulon said, "Yes, of course.  But we're discussing subjects which must surely cause him great pain."

"What can possibly cause me more pain than the loss of my wife?"  Radu observed as he took the offered seat.  "Except perhaps the disintegration of all that Dimi and I tried to build on Pamylasia."

"Quite so," Aajulon agreed.  He fell silent, not certain how to resume business.  "Perhaps we can come back later to the topic we were discussing."

"Actually, I would like to hear what Radu has to say about Skywalker's situation," Nuredeen interjected.

Radu flinched slightly at the name, but displayed a genuine concern.  "You mean, what happened to him in prison?"

"Rather, what we should do with him now," Aajulon explained.  "We are forced to pay for the expense of keeping him in a safe house, money which could be going to the people."

Nuredeen observed, "Erison Tamalan is calling for his release into the custody of Republic Security Forces.  It would take him off our hands and hopefully help defuse the situation here."

"That obnoxious reporter!" Aajulon fumed.  "She always was a troublemaker."

The sudden stony silence in the room made Aajulon realize his mistake.  Shocked, Radu Akeeno said, "Erison was one of the few journalists who dared to report the truth during the reign of the Barons.  Her coverage of conditions in the prison system were what helped keep Dimi alive all those years."

Cautiously, Aajulon said, "Of course. I meant no disrespect.  It's just that...."  He paused, searching for acceptable words.  "Her stance on this particular issue is rather troublesome.  And she is not making us look good to the Galactic Republic."

"Is the purpose of the press to make us look good, or is it to expose the truth, especially those truths which we would prefer remained hidden?"

Everyone remained silent, chastened by Radu's gentle rebuke.  At last Nuredeen spoke up, "What do you think we should do about the Jedi, Radu?"

He considered the question carefully before answering.  "I think Erison may be right.  I am the first one who wants to see this man held accountable for his crime, but having him murdered in prison is just as great an injustice as my Dimi's death."  Several audible gasps greeted this stunning statement, and Radu turned a disapproving look on those Cabinet members who seemed to take exception to what he had said.  "Dimi herself knew full well what it was like to suffer injustice at the hands of a corrupt criminal system.  She believed that everyone had the right to a fair and just trial.  Anything else is a desecration of all she believed in and fought for."  He turned back to face Aajulon.  "Let Skywalker go.  The Republic has almost as much at stake in seeing that he comes to trial as we do.  If they were to try to get him off without a trial, it would destroy their own credibility.  They have to demonstrate that the Republic demands justice even from their 'honored protector.'"

Aajulon was not exactly pleased with this advice, but after all, it would mean the government would no longer have to pay for Skywalker's upkeep.  "I will consider what you have said," he announced last.  "Bopolur, I want to see a recommendation from you, reflecting costs, security risks, and any other relevant factors."  He paused and turned back to Radu, and said, not entirely with sincerity, "Thank you for your advice, Radu.  It is helpful for us to hear what Dimi herself would have wanted.  Now, I suggest we take a break and reconvene in the afternoon.  We have many other matters to discuss aside from this Jedi."

Aajulon turned to confer with Bopolur, and the Cabinet members rose from their chairs.  Nuredeen came around the table to Radu's side.  "It is good to see you again, my friend, and I am very glad you took me up on my invitation to come."

Although his face was gentle, his eyes betrayed his pain.  "Is this why you wanted me here?"

She rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.  "No.  It must have been difficult for you.  Still, I appreciate your wisdom in the matter.  Having you here is almost like having Dimi herself among us again."

"Almost," Radu agreed softly.  "But not quite."  

Nuredeen regarded him closely.  "Would you walk with me back to my office?  I do enjoy your company."

Radu agreed, and they headed leisurely down the hall, chatting about matters of no consequence, matters which would not give rise to painful memories.  By the time they reached Nuredeen's office, Radu realized they had been joined by several other Cabinet members.  "What is this?" he asked.

Nuredeen closed the door behind him, then gestured for him to take a seat.  "We want to discuss Pamylasia's future with you."

The Secretary of Commerce, Olan Quiris, said, "As you might imagine, Aajulon plans to run for president.  He would probably like to run with the Pamylasia People's Party, but if we picked another candidate, he will return to his original party."

"And return to his true roots," Nuredeen added.  " Dimi was wise to choose him as her running mate.  He brought many of the moderates in the Liberty Party with him.  But without her, he demonstrates his own weakness.  He has no vision for the future.  He fears chaos."

"And to fight that chaos, he may strike an alliance with the Barons," Quiris concluded.

Radu stared at the others in astonishment.  "You can't be serious!" he exclaimed.  "Doesn't he know what they would do if they got back into power?"

Quiris shook his head.  "No doubt he thinks he could control them.  But remember, merchants such as the Liberty Party represents did fairly well under the Barons.  It was an uneasy peace, but they made a lot of money.  He probably imagines he could form a strengthening alliance with them the way Dimi did with the Liberty party."

"But that's insane.  The Barons are not to be trusted."

"Of course not.  But Aajulon would be the favored candidate to win, as Dimi's running mate," Queris observed.  "Unless...."  He raised his eyebrows at Radu.

Understanding dawned on him, and he raised his hands in protest.  "Oh, no.  You can't mean you want me to run."

Nuredeen only smiled.  "I meant what I said before: having you is like having Dimi around."

"But I'm no politician!"

"And Dimi was just a factory worker," Nuredeen reminded him.  "Radu, you were the one who kept her work going while she was imprisoned.  Dimi rose to the occasion, and when she was jailed, you rose to take her place.  You've always played down your role, but the truth is, you and Dimi are two sides of the same coin."

Quiris interjected, "What she did, you can do."

Radu considered their words.  It made sense in a strange way, but he was still not convinced.  "Imo, you are the one who really worked with Dimi.  You should run.  You know more about these things than I do."

"But I'm not well-known.  Dimi's advisor?  It may gain me some respect, but probably not the vote."  She folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with her gaze.  "Let me be frank with you.  If people view anyone as Dimi's true successor, the inheritor of all her qualities and all that she believed in, it is her widower.  In the crassest sense, having you as a candidate would play off their sympathies and loyalty to her.  But you know I wouldn't put you forward as a candidate unless I had confidence in your ability to fill that role."  She leaned forward in her chair.  "I know you can be every bit the leader Dimi was."

Her confidence in him moved him deeply, but how could he take his wife's place?  She had been a mere girl in the factory where he worked.  When they married they had no dreams beyond one day starting a family.  But she had soon become involved in efforts to unionize the factory.  She became a leader in the struggle for more must working conditions, and from that she joined the effort to end the Barons' rule.  Throughout her transformation from factory worker to revolutionary leader, Radu had stayed by her side, as her supporter and helper.  And when she was imprisoned, he continued her fight.  All those years, he was separated from her, but when she finally emerged a free woman, she had not changed one bit from the woman he'd married.  He fell in love with her all over again.  But their time together was too short, and he missed her now more than he ever had while she was imprisoned.  He could never replace her.  But neither could he fail her, especially now, when all she ever dreamed of threatened to crumble into dust.

"I will think about it," he at last relented.

Nuredeen nodded.  "That's all we can ask of you.  But I do hope you will accept.  Pamylasia still needs Dimi, and her heart lives in you."


	4. Chapters 12-13

Part Two Chapter Twelve: The Outcast State 

Leia Organa stood by herself at the landing dock where the _Millennium Falcon and the __Jade Sabre were due to land, but she was not alone.  A handful of Republic Security Guards stood nearby, not to take Luke into custody, but to offer their protection._

The press, of course, were also there, gathered outside a roped off area around the platform.  Leia had already instructed them that Luke would answer no questions and make no statements.  The last thing she wanted was an impromptu press conference.  Now was not the time for Luke to make any of his usual candid public statements.  Leia considered it one of her greatest failings that she had never succeeded in teaching Luke the fine and complex art of dealing with the press.  What she considered diplomatic language, the careful phrasing of statements with an ear to how they would be received by a number of varying and conflicting political and social interests, Luke considered doctoring of the truth.  While he never begrudged or criticized Leia's use of diplomatic language, he did not see himself in the same role.  Consequently, he almost never stuck to the carefully scripted press statements Leia's writers worked out for him, preferring off the cuff remarks and unrehearsed question and answer sessions in which he could more directly "speak from the heart," as he saw it.  This created no end of stress for Leia, and had resulted in more than one controversy in Luke's lifetime as a public figure, but over time the public had grown accustomed to Luke's particular brand of unpracticed frankness, and the press treated him more leniently than his sister, should she ever make such ingenuous remarks.

But this was one occasion when Leia hoped -- _prayed -- that Luke would heed her advice.  Any statement he made, rehearsed or otherwise, could damage his case and further sully his reputation, for his reputation had been severely harmed by the events on Pamylasia._

While Luke had always been a controversial figure, for his claims as a Jedi Knight, for his defense of Darth Vader as his father, for his denial of killing the Emperor, for his establishment and administration of the new Jedi Order, for his marriage to Mara Jade, the former Emperor's Hand, as well as scores of other issues -- despite all these controversies, most people had always respected him.  Even those who did not like Luke had to admit that he was honorable.  How then were they to accept his admission to the willful murder of Dimishaneer Akeeno?  Preaching the redemption of Darth Vader was one thing, but this was truly unthinkable.

Even so, Luke's fall from grace in the eyes of the people had surprised even Leia.  Some people were quick to point out that they had always been suspicious of Luke, but most, however, were unwilling to pass judgment until they understood more of what happened.  Nevertheless, almost no one was willing to go on record as supporting Luke Skywalker.  Their twenty-year relationship with the Republic's most beloved son kept them from condemning him now, but Leia feared they would not stay silent for long.

None of Leia's colleagues was willing to stand with her at this meeting.  A few had privately expressed their support and sympathy (carefully phrased, Leia noted, to refer only to her specifically), such as Mon Mothma, Admiral Ackbar, Carlist Rieekan, and Senator Elegos A'kla.  The Jedi themselves had decided not to be present, though not out of lack of compassion for Luke.  They would have their own reunion, bittersweet as it would be, and they only sought to keep their own pain, and Luke's, out of the public eye.

Winter, Leia's childhood friend and companion, wanted to be with her, but Leia insisted she remain at home with the children, whom Leia had not permitted to be present for the same reason that the Jedi chose to stay away.  She did not want poignant vid footage of her children rushing to embrace their beloved uncle broadcast all over the galaxy.

Out of all the people Luke knew on Coruscant, only a handful of the original members of the Rogue Squadron offered to be present at the meeting.  Rogue Squadron could not exactly be considered a political entity, and most of the pilots who had flown with Luke were now retired, so they would hardly have been jeopardizing their careers by appearing publicly with their founder.  Nevertheless, Leia persuaded them not to appear as well, at least not to stand with her.  Wedge Antilles had tried hard to insist, and she knew he, and probably the others, were present, although they stood outside the ropes among the crowd, and not on the platform itself.

The crowd.  Public figures may have stayed away, but the public themselves were present, though whether to welcome Luke or condemn him, Leia was not sure.  Initial estimates were that three-quarters of a million people had assembled near the platform to witness the return of the fallen Jedi.  They were not there as demonstrators or protesters.  No one held signs or shouted slogans.  They only wanted to witness, and perhaps to question.  How could Luke have betrayed them so horribly?

And this, above all, was the question Leia feared her brother would be unable to leave unanswered.  But would they be sympathetic to whatever Luke might have to say, or would they turn his honesty against him, and use his very words as an epitaph to bury him?

Straightening her shoulders, Leia turned her gaze skyward as the _Millennium Falcon hovered into view above her, the __Jade Sabre slaved to its controls.  Both ships settled gently onto the landing platform.  The murmuring of the crowd fell silent as the __Falcon's ramp descended.  Several minutes passed before Han and Chewie made their appearance.  From where she stood, Leia could see her brother and Mara on crutches following them, and she guessed Han and Chewie had gone first in an effort to shield Luke from the spectators._

Leia stepped quickly up to the ramp and embraced Luke.  He clung to her tightly for a long minute before releasing her, but Leia was not yet ready to let go of him.  She cradled his face in her hands.  All physical traces of his abuse in prison had been effectively erased by the bacta treatment, but the psychological scars were painfully evident.  His cheeks were sunken and he had lost weight.  His eyes were dull and lifeless, and he seemed very tired.  Leia's eyes caught on the tracking collar around his neck.  The Pamylasian judge had insisted Luke wear it as a condition of his release.  _Like a criminal.  She shuddered and hugged him again quickly, burying her face briefly in his chest before finally letting go and smiling warmly up at him.  "It's good to see you again," she said.  "Now let's get you home."  She slipped close to his side so that his arm rested across her shoulders, and she steered him to the waiting skyhopper, but as Han and Chewie moved out of his way, he noticed the crowd and froze._

"Come on, Luke, let's just go," she said softly, leaning against his arm.

He did not answer, only stood looking at the silent crowd, their faces questioning, just like the crowd back at the hospital on Myrmidon, wondering what he had become, whether they could trust him anymore.  His people, not politicians or lawyers or power brokers, but ordinary people as he had been ordinary once on Tatooine.  Their unvoiced question pulled at him like a gravitational force.

With growing apprehension, Leia warned, "Luke --," but she could already feel him drawing away from her, his arm slipping from her shoulders.  He took a couple of steps toward the crowd.  The press people straightened up at his approach, cameras shifting to better positions, microphones raised.  Leia's heart sank.  Quickly she slipped in front of him, her back to the crowd, and placed a restraining hand on his chest.  She tried to catch his gaze, but he looked only at the crowd.  "Luke, please."  She let him hear the desperation in her voice.  "I am begging you, don't do this."

Slowly, he dragged his attention away from the crowd to search her face.  She could see the struggle inside him.  Trying to be patient, she waited for him to relent on his own.  For a long minute he hesitated, then before he had even moved, she could sense him pulling away from her again.  Anguished, she begged, "Please," her voice hardly more than a whisper.

Luke stopped.  He did not want to, but he could not ignore the pain in Leia's expression.  Silently he allowed Leia to lead him back to the skyhopper where the others waited, visibly relieved that Leia had won.

They settled in, Chewie, Luke and Mara in one seat, Han and Leia in the other, facing them.  Luke stared blindly out the window.  No one spoke, and Han could feel Leia trembling next to him, so upset she was by Luke's defeated appearance.  At last she sat forward, resting her hand on Luke's knee.  "Come back home with us," she suggested.  "Spend the rest of the day with us.  The children are so eager to see you again."

Luke's didn't look away from the window.  "I don't know.  I'm kind of tired.  I think I'd just as soon get home."  A deep depression was settling over Luke, and he feared that if he put off the most painful reunion of all, his return to the Jedi Temple, he would lose the strength to endure it.

Glancing from Luke to Leia, Mara suggested, "Maybe we'll come for dinner tonight."

Luke neither relented nor protested, and Leia bit her lip.  Nuzzling closer to Han, she looked at Mara.  "We'll expect you tonight, then," she said, deciding between them, and hoping that Luke would agree.

With this tentative arrangement, Leia, the consummate diplomat, fell uncharacteristically silent.  After all, what really could be said?  No one spoke again until the skyhopper stopped to let Leia, Han, and Chewie off at their building.  Giving Luke a kiss, Leia said, "Until dinner tonight."  Luke smiled wanly, but still did not reply.  Then the 'hopper turned toward the Jedi Temple.

While Mara wouldn't have minded escaping Luke's depression at Han and Leia's, she was also like Luke eager to get their reunion with the Jedi over with.  It was bound to be heavily emotional, and Mara could only handle extreme emotion in small dosages.

Fortunately access to the Temple was relatively restricted, so they would avoid facing another crowd, at least on the outside.  As the 'hopper hovered over the Temple, Mara noticed a small gathering outside the main entrance, but they did not fly close enough to see what was going on.

The 'hopper entered the Temple complex at a small hanger, accessible only to the Jedi, but all the residents of the Temple had gathered there.  As Luke and Mara exited the skyhopper, they were engulfed in a wave of genuine love flowing from their Jedi companions, but somehow their affection only made their sense of betrayal that much more painful to Luke.

The Jedi numbered well over a hundred now, and it appeared most of them had assembled to meet them.  Scanning the assembly, Luke spied some faces he had not seen at the Temple in years.

Hamsa Jerat stood at the forefront of the gathering, and she stepped forward to meet them, her face lit in a gentle but warm smile.  "Welcome home, Master Luke, Mara," she greeted them.  "We are glad to have you with us again."  She paused, then still smiling, she said more formally, "Master, are you willing to come before the Council and make an account for yourself, and will you submit to their wisdom and judgment?"

It was a genuine request.  Luke did not have to agree.  Jedi Knights who had potentially stepped outside the bounds of their vows did not have to appear before the Council.  Depending on the severity of the case, the Council might or might not render a judgment, especially in a question of discipline, or if an apprentice posed a possible threat to the galaxy.  But the request, and a willingness to appear before the Council, went far in the way of restoring trust, and the subsequent examination could challenge and strengthen all the Jedi.

Luke knew this.  It was the way he had always acted toward others in his place.  So with ready compliance, he answered, "I will.  It is the Council's right and duty.  I will submit."

Hamsa nodded.  "I'm sure after your ordeal, you would like a little time to recover and collect yourself."

This Luke had not expected.  He relaxed slightly.  "Actually, I would really appreciate that."

"Would the day after tomorrow be too soon?"

"No, that's fine.  It's more than generous."  Any longer would be too long.

"Very well, the day after tomorrow.  And if you find that you do need more time, just let us know."  She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder.  "It really is good to have you home again, Master."

"It's good to be back," Luke replied, and despite the pain he felt, he meant it.

She nodded to him once more, then turned and walked through the assembly.  As she passed, the others quietly dispersed, leaving Luke and Mara alone.  The Jedi did not want to overwhelm them with the intensity of their emotions.  It was enough for Luke to see their love for him.  They would leave it to him to reconnect with them in his own way and at his own pace.

Silently, Luke and Mara returned to their quarters.  Since Luke's release from prison, they had actually not spoken much.  Although there was much to talk about, for now it did not seem necessary.  They found it enough simply to be together.

Their spartan quarters were not particularly welcoming.  Except for a few personal effects, they might have been checking into a hotel on yet another mission.  Before their marriage, Luke had traveled so much, and spent most of his personal time on Coruscant with Han and Leia, that he had never developed any domestic taste, and Mara was long accustomed to calling a starship her home.  They had not been married long enough to turn their apartment into anything more than simply a place to live.  For the first time, Luke regretted the lack and found himself missing the tidy, comforting home he'd known on Tatooine.

With a sigh, Luke tossed their travel kits on the couch.  "I think I'm going to take a nap.  I've got much too much space travel still in my bones."

Mara nodded.  "And I'll --."  She cast about in her mind for any excuse for action.  "I'm going to go to the gymnasium and work on those strengthening exercises for my legs."

"Don't overdo it," Luke chided with genuine concern.  On the _Millennium Falcon, with nothing else to do, Mara had worked her legs so hard trying to strengthen her ankles that Luke worried she would end up stunting their healing.  But he understood her need to act._

"I won't," she assured him absently.  "Maybe I'll also check out the latest news reports at the library."

Luke made a face.  "If that's your idea of a good time."

She laughed.  "I'll spare you the gruesome details when I get back."  And before Luke could reply, she was out the door.

Somewhat relieved to be freed from her nervous energy, Luke retreated into the bedroom to escape into the welcoming arms of sleep.

  
Chapter Thirteen: Advocates 

About an hour later, Luke was woken up by the ringing of the door chime.  He roused himself with some difficulty, more from lethargy than actual fatigue, and opened the door to find Anath standing there.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," the younger man apologized.  "I'm sure you want to rest.  But I would like to talk with you as soon as you feel up to it."

Smiling, Luke ushered Anath into the room.  "I'm always up to a visit from you."

"How was the trip from Pamylasia?"  Anath asked.

"Blessedly uneventful," Luke replied as they both settled on to the couch.  Anath had a particular way of beginning any conversation by first inquiring about mundane matters of health, weather, and travel conditions, a practice Luke recognized from his own upbringing on Tatooine.  It seemed to be the habit of rural people, no matter what planet they might be from, this strange formality of polite inquiry.  In sparsely populated areas visitors were so rare it was first necessary to re-establish relations through an extended series of innocuous chit-chat before settling down to actual business.  Despite his many years on this bustling urban planet where people saw time as a precious commodity, Anath had clung to this provincial ritual, something Luke greatly appreciated.

So they passed a quarter of an hour in conversation on the health of their respective families, travel conditions, the spell of cool weather Coruscant had been enjoying, and the latest foibles of the younger apprentices.  Only then was Anath ready to bring up the issue he had come to discuss with Luke.  "When you appear before the examination," he began, "have you given any thought as to whom you would like to stand with you?"

Whenever a Jedi appeared before the Council, her or his master always stood with them, to act as support and to speak on their behalf.  Such had been the practice of the Old Order, to reinforce their sense of community and to ensure that no Jedi under examination should feel abandoned and alone.  Both of Luke's masters, of course, were dead, so he would have to ask someone else to stand in his master's place.

Luke considered.  "I have thought about it a little, but haven't decided on anyone to ask yet."

Anath leaned forward, "With your permission, I would like to stand with you.  As your first apprentice, I would be honored."

Luke knew Anath would ask, and part of him wanted very much to agree.  He shared a bond with Anath that he had with no one else.  He hardly thought of himself as Anath's master.  They had both been so young when they met, and Luke, while powerful, had not yet had enough experience to really consider himself a master.  They were more like two apprentices learning together.  It was with Anath that Luke had begun the recovery of the old Jedi heritage, with Anath that he had established contact with the remaining Old Order Knights and sought out new apprentices, with Anath that he had shaped the New Order.  Anath was a deeply religious person, and his spiritual grounding had helped Luke shape and guide his own growing power, giving him a framework to develop the philosophy and ethics needed for the New Order.  Luke felt he had learned at least as much from Anath as he had given himself.  In any trial, it was Anath Luke wanted by his side more than any other.  But those very qualities which Luke valued most were the same ones Luke felt the others needed now.

Leaving Anath's request unanswered, Luke asked, "Has the Council decided on new leadership yet?"

Settling back into the couch, Anath answered, "Not really.  For now, Lanari, Hamsa and I have been acting as the leaders, but it has not yet been finalized.  After all, technically you're still the Master."

"But you have been acting as the Master," Luke said.  He knew as much from the news vids he had seen.

Worried, Anath hesitated.  "Yes."

"The Master cannot act as advocate," Luke observed mildly.

"I have only been acting as Master; I can step down."

Luke paused, looking down at his hand, choosing his next words carefully.  Idly Luke mused that he had not held his lightsaber since giving it up on Endirion all those weeks ago.  He had never been so long without it.  Perhaps it would never be returned to him.  

"I have always valued your wisdom, your compassion, your discernment," he said slowly, not looking up.  "I know I don't rightfully have a say anymore, but of all the members of the Council, you are the one I trust most in the seat of judgment.  Anyone can be my advocate."  Luke looked up at Anath.  "But you're the one I most want for my judge."

Luke's words caught Anath like a physical blow.  His face paled.  In a broken whisper, he protested, "I can't do it.  How can I sit in judgment on you?"

Luke's expression did not waver.  "I know you can."

"No!"  Anath cried.  He buried his head in his hands.  For a long time he struggled with himself.  Luke waited patiently.  At last Anath looked up again.  "How can you ask that of me?  You're my best friend.  I can't pass judgment on my best friend!"

Luke smiled, "Of course you can.  You've disagreed with me often in the past, and you were usually right."

"I could, yes," Anath admitted.  "But it would break my heart."

Now it was Luke who had to look away.  If their positions were reversed, he would feel the same way.  But he persisted.  "Anath, the Jedi need a strong leader now.  You and I both know that regardless of the final judgment I cannot continue as Master.  No one embodies the heart and soul of the Jedi as completely as you do.  You unite both the old order and the new.  Everyone has confidence in you.

"But if you act as my advocate, how could the rest of the galaxy trust you as the new Master?  You would be too closely connected to me.  Even our own people would not be able to fully trust you as an impartial leader."

Anath shook his head.  "But I _am closely connected to you.  Nothing will change that."_

"I know, but that's all the more reason why you need to be my judge and not my advocate.  Everyone needs to see that you can bring us all through this trial."  Reaching out, he placed his hand on Anath's bowed head.  He could feel Anath trembling underneath his palm, but he also felt Anath's strength.  "I know it is a hard thing to ask of you.  But _you know I wouldn't ask it unless it was right."_

His head still bowed, Anath took Luke's hand and pressed it to his cheek.  Although he was silent, Luke could feel Anath's tears on the back of his hand.  Slowly, Anath's trembling ceased, and his breathing grew even.  At last he raised his head, still pressing Luke's hand in his own.  Calm resignation settled over his features.  "If it is the Council's wish, then I will sit as your judge, and I will serve as the Master."  He searched Luke's face, as if memorizing every feature.  "But you will always be my master."

"And you will always be mine."

They again felt silent, the same silence Luke and Mara had come to share, a silence which could not give voice to all the many things it said.

Anath finally released Luke's hand.  "If that's the way it is to be, then I have a lot to do before the examination.  Until then, will you and Mara join my family for dinner tonight?"

"That would be nice," Luke agreed, "but Han and Leia beat you to it.  To tell the truth, I don't feel up to company right now."

Nodding, Anath stood, "I understand.  Another time.  Until then, take care of yourself."

"I'll do my best."  Luke also stood and showed Anath to the door.  

*****

After Anath left, Luke again lay down, but sleep did not come to rescue him from himself.  All he could think about was how he had betrayed everyone.  By the time Mara returned to get ready for dinner, he had sunk deeply into depression.  He could not bear to face his family again, and he tried to talk Mara out of going, but she insisted almost angrily, and Luke found it easier just to give in rather than try to oppose her will.

From the Temple, they hired an airtaxi, but when they arrived at the entrance to Han and Leia's building, they found a score or so members of the press lounging around the entrance, just waiting for their prey to arrive.

Unconsciously Luke shuddered, leaning close to Mara.  Squeezing his hand, she said, "We can make it.  Just follow me."  Swiftly she opened the door and climbed out.  Using only one of her crutches, she took Luke's arm with her free hand and headed resolutely for the entrance.

Almost immediately, however, they were spied, and the reporters descended on them like sand beetles on a dead jawa.  The bright lights from the cameras blinded their eyes as microphones were shoved at them from all sides.

"Master Skywalker, do you have any statement?"

"How have you been received on Coruscant?"

"Any thoughts on your coming trial?"

As the reporters closed in around them, Mara barked, "No comment!" and tried to shoulder her way through the crowd, but they would not let her through.  More reporters arrived on the scene, and even bystanders pressed close to hear what Luke might have to say.  But for once Luke had no desire to say anything.  He kept his head down, huddling against Mara as she tried to forge a path.  As the reporters shouted questions, they pressed closer and closer around Luke and Mara.  The cameras were mere centimeters away from their faces, and they were physically jostled by the insistent crowd.  Bodies pressed hard against Luke as the crowd grew tighter and more dense.  He could feel Mara's hand being pulled away from his arm, and he struggled to fight down the fear that he would be crushed.  Mara's fingers dug into his sleeve, trying not to be separated from him.  "Please stop!" he cried.  Then Mara let go of his arm, and the reporters closed around him, still shouting questions.

The snap-hiss of an igniting lightsaber sliced through the noise, and a cold blue light bathed the faces of the nearest reporters, who managed to shrink back even in the dense crowd, just enough for Luke to slip next to Mara's side.  She held her saber high above the reporters' heads and commanded, "Step back!"  The crowd cleared another three or four centimeters around them, eyes fixed warily on the lethal blade.  Not much room, but enough for Luke and Mara to push their way to the door and stumble into the building.  The door closed on the reporters, who were not allowed to enter.  As President of the Republic, Leia lived in a high security building with access restricted only to residents and invited guests.

The doorman held the turbolift for Luke and Mara to get on, then punched in their floor.  Still gasping for breath, Luke remarked to Mara, "That'll be a great image for the news vids.  I can hear the report now: 'Skywalker threatens reporters with lightsaber'."

"It wasn't you, it was me, and I wasn't threatening them, only trying to make room."

"Yeah, I'm sure they'll notice such details."  He grinned at her and she returned his smiled.  Then he noticed the turbolift's other occupants, several guests who were trying not to look at Luke, although his words had clearly frightened them.  They all pressed close against the far side of the lift, and at the first floor the lift stopped at, they all exited, leaving Luke and Mara alone.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut as depression settled over him again.  They rode the rest of the way in silence.  At their floor, Luke found himself moving slower and slower, unnoticed by Mara who marched on ahead, balancing on her crutches.

Finally Luke stopped altogether and leaned against the wall, as if physically unable to take another step.  The panic he felt in the crowd squeezed his heart, and he felt he couldn't bear to face another soul.  His breathing grew labored, rugged, bordering on hyperventilation, and he turned his face to the wall, the metal surface cool against his burning forehead.

"Are you all right?"  Mara stood next to him.

The fear pressed closer in on him, like the crowd outside the building.  "I can't," he gasped into the wall.  "Let's just leave."

"You want to go through that crowd again?" she chided.  "Look, we're here.  We might as well go in."

"I can't bear to face them."

"But you already have."

"Not the kids."  

Mara could feel her frustration building.  "The kids want to see you.  You don't want to disappoint them."  

_I already have, was Luke's anguished thought.  His breathing grew more labored.  Tears edged their way into his voice, as he begged, "Please, Mara.  I just want to go home.  Take me home."_

A wave of empathy flowed over Mara, melting away her impatience with Luke's fear.  Her voice kind and gentle, she observed, "You are home."

Her words cut through his panic.  He turned toward her, leaning into her arms, drawing strength from her.  His breathing evened out.  He still would have preferred to return to the Temple, but after all she had a point: he really did not want to face the reporters again.  He swallowed back his fear, resolving to make it through their visit.  Leia would take care of him, he knew.  If all he wanted to do was hide in their garden, Leia would let him, and she would make sure the others didn't disturb him.

When Luke had calmed down, Mara took his arm, and they walked slowly down the hall to Han and Leia's apartment.  At the door, Mara kissed Luke tenderly on the cheek before ringing the door chime.

The door flew open, and a chorus of happy voices greeted them.  "Surprise!  Surprise!"

The three Solo children flung themselves at their uncle, throwing their arms around his waist as Luke was pelted with confetti by the adults in the room, Han, Leia, Chewbacca, and two others, Wedge Antilles and Talon Karrde.

Stunned, Luke exclaimed, "Wedge!"

His old wingmate reached over the kids' heads to give him a hug, pounding him hard on the back.  "Good to see you, Boss!  You know I could never pass up on a party."

"And Captain Karrde!  What are you doing here?"

The spacer greeted him with a kiss on each cheek.  "I arrived yesterday," he informed Luke in his elegant accent.  "Leia was gracious enough to invite me to come tonight."

Luke glanced at Leia, who smiled and shook her head.  "I may have come up with the guest list, but the party was the children's idea.  They planned the whole thing."  

"We did!  We did!" the children chimed.  Luke fell on his knees and seized all three of them in a huge hug.  They squeezed their arms around him as tightly as they could, as if they could force their love into his body.  They only dimly understood what their mother had told them about what happened to their uncle and aunt, but they knew Luke needed their help, and they were determined to give it to him.  They smothered his face with kisses, kissing up his tears before they could fall.  He pulled his head back so he could look at them, his eyes shining.

"I made the sign!" Jaina told him proudly.  Luke glanced up at the sign he had not noticed before: "Welcome Home Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara," written in Jaina's neat lettering and liberally illustrated with drawings of all the family members, including the droids.

"And I made a cake," Jacen chimed in.  "Your favorite flavor: chocolate!"

"I helped!" Anakin added.

"And I made the decorations," Jaina interrupted.

"All right, that's enough," Leia chided.  "Don't you want to say hello to Aunt Mara, too?"

At the prompt, the children detached themselves from Luke and descended on Mara, whom they had grown to love almost as much as their uncle.

As Luke got to his feet again, Han sidled up to him.  "They did make the cake, and even helped with dinner.  But don't worry, I have the number of a restaurant that delivers."

Luke shook his head.  "I'll gladly eat anything those kids ever care to make for me."

"Never make foolish promises," Han returned.  Then he directed his attention to his children.  Seizing two of them by the collar, he pulled them off Mara before they succeeded in knocking her over.  "Go easy on your aunt, will you?  And no, Anakin, you can't play with her crutches.  Now, whaddya say we all eat?"

The children cheered and rushed into the dining room, where they immediately began squabbling over who would get to sit next to Luke.  Leia managed to resolve the conflict with the suggestion that they would switch chairs every ten minutes.

Dinner was as lively a meal as any of them had ever known.  Laughter and conversation were passed around with the dishes, the children chattering about school and their latest exploits, Wedge discussing life as a retired general, Karrde talking about his latest business ventures.  The noise level never once abated throughout the meal, and Luke drew it in like balm for the soul.  

After dinner and the cake, which was decorated with a drawing in icing of what was either two Ugnauts, or Luke and Mara, they all retired to the living room for an impromptu talent show.  Luke and Wedge sang the fighting song of Rogue Squadron, Han danced a Corellian reel, Leia told the latest string of Corellian jokes, and Talon Karrde entertained them with a rousing recital of "The Ballad of Ezra Khan, Outlaw of the Rim Worlds."  This stirring bit of poetry inspired Anakin to want to demonstrate the latest of his improvised fighting moves, an enterprise which usually resulted in at least one broken piece of furniture, but Jaina jumped up and seized the stage before her little brother could get carried away.  

"I want to tell you the best story that was ever told," she announced.  "It began a long time ago, many years before I was born.  There once lived a beautiful princess, who was brave and smart and wise.  Everyone loved her.  Everyone, that is, except the evil king.  He hated everyone and would be cruel and oppress them.  But the beautiful princess fought against him and led all the people in a rebellion.  But the evil king kidnapped her and locked her up in a dungeon in his evil castle.  So her faithful droids went looking to find someone to help her."

"Oh," Threepio exclaimed.  "That must be Artoo and myself!"

"Hush!" Jacen chided.  "Of course it is."

Ignoring the interruption, Jaina continued, "So they went everywhere, but no one was brave enough to fight the evil king.  Then a brave and handsome knight appeared, with his green lightsaber shining --"

"Excuse me, Master Luke," Threepio again interrupted, "but wasn't your first lightsaber blue?"

Mara rested her hand on the lightsaber in question, and Luke said, "Yes, but Jaina is the one telling the story."

"It's _green," Jaina asserted.  She collected herself, then continued.  "So the brave knight said, 'Never fear.  I will save the princess."  And the droids said, 'Oh, thank you, thank you, kind sir.  But how will we get to the castle?  We don't have a ship.'  And the knight said, 'I know where to find one.'  So they went and found a ship that was the fastest one ever built --"_

"She's got that right," Han interjected.

"And the Captain was the most handsome man in the galaxy --"

"I _like this story!" Han again interrupted._

"-- and the first mate was the bravest and strongest Wookiee ever.  And they said, 'We will help you rescue the princess.'"

"I seem to recall it took a little more persuading than that," Luke drawled.

"And here I thought you Jedi were supposed to have good memories," retorted Han.

"Stop interrupting!" Jacen shouted in his twin's defense.

But Jaina took the interruptions in stride.  Without missing a beat, she continued, "So they flew off to the evil king's castle and fought their way in against many evil soldiers.  Then the brave knight found the dungeon where the beautiful princess was being held, and with his shining saber, he cut through the door and said --"

"I'M LUKE SKYWALKER, AND I'M HERE TO RESCUE YOU!!!"  Jaina, Jacen, Anakin, Han, Leia, Wedge, and even Chewbacca, joined in reciting the line in unison, then disintegrated into laughter while Luke flung his arms over his face in mortal embarrassment.

"We must be missing something," Mara observed to Karrde, who shrugged in puzzlement.

"That's what Luke said when he entered my cell on the Death Star," Leia explained, wiping the tears from her eyes as she tried to control her giggles.

Mara turned a disbelieving look on her husband, who moaned into his hands.  "You actually said that?"  He only blushed in reply.

"Tatooenes are not really renowned orators," Karrde observed wryly.

"Okay, okay, back to the story," Jacen rebuked.  He had heard the famous line often enough, and he didn't really find it that funny.  He actually thought it sounded very noble.

Jaina cleared her throat for dramatic effect.  "So they rescued the beautiful princess and escaped in the wonderful ship.  Then they met with the rebels to plan their attack on the evil king's castle.  The beautiful princess gave a great speech, saying, 'Good people of the Republic --'"

"It was the Empire," Anakin corrected.

"'-- now is our greatest hour.  We have lived under the dark shadow of tyranny too long.  Now we must unite as one to stop the evil king and bring peace and justice to our galaxy once more.'"

"Good speech," Han approved.  He squeezed Leia shoulders.  "Sounds just like you."  Leia said nothing, only smiled proudly at her daughter.

"So all the people came together, and the brave knight, the handsome Captain, and the mighty Wookiee --"

"Don't forget the heroic fighter pilot," Wedge corrected.  "He's the most important one."

Jaina had forgotten, but she recovered nicely.  "Joined by their good friend, the heroic fighter pilot, they all got in their ships and flew to the castle, where the knight blew it up --"

"Yeah, but he couldn't have done it without his friends," Han pointed out.

"But Uncle Luke is the one who blew it up," Anakin retorted.

"A mere detail," Han replied.

"So _then --," Jaina said forcefully, regaining her audience, "they all came home, and everyone was free.  And they elected the princess as their new president, and she married the handsome captain --"_

"I definitely remember that taking longer," Leia remarked.

"And they had two sons, and a really wonderful and brilliant daughter."

"Boo!" Jacen and Anakin protested.

"And the knight met another brave and beautiful knight, and they got married.  And everyone lived happily ever after."

With a flourish, Jaina took her bow amid rousing applause.

Leia rose from her chair to give her daughter a hug.  "That was a lovely story, dear.  My favorite.  But now I'm afraid it's way past your bedtime."

The three children chorused their protests, but to no avail.  No one ever won an argument against Leia Organa.  They kissed their aunt and uncle good night, hanging closely on Luke's neck, and bade farewell to the others before Han trundled them off to their rooms.  

            Luke stretched and wrung out a yawn.  "We really ought to get home, too.  It'll be a big day tomorrow."

            "Understandable," Leia said.  "I'll notify security so you won't have to run the gauntlet again."

            "Thanks," Luke smiled gratefully.

            "Thank you for coming."  She kissed him on the cheek, then went to call security.

            "I'll head on out with you as backup," Wedge volunteered.  "But you really could use that sexy fighter pilot in Jaina's story for your wingmate.  I really didn't think there was enough about him."

            "And what about that mysterious knight at the end?"  Mara wondered.

            As she and Wedge exchanged banter, Karrde leaned close to Luke.  For the Jedi's ears only, he said in a quiet voice, "I can't thank you enough for saving Mara.  I know others do not approve of your choice, but I for one am grateful for what you did."  Luke said nothing, uncertain how to reply, and Karrde went on, "Really, I am in your debt, and if you don't mind, I'd like to stop by tonight and discuss how I might be able to make it up to you."

            While Luke knew how close Karrde was to Mara, he really didn't think he should be thanked for killing Akeeno on her behalf.  Awkwardly, he demurred, "Don't be ridiculous."

            "I'm not, and I insist on discussing terms with you."  Karrde gazed at him with steady eyes, and Luke could not refuse.

            With a final round of "goodnights," the party finally broke up.  While neither Wedge nor the security guards could disperse the waiting crowd of reporters, they were at least able to hustle Luke, Mara, and Talon Karrde into a speeder without physical injury.  Their entrance to the Jedi Temple was once again without incident, and the three of them were soon seated in the Jade-Skywalker living room sipping from snifters of an expensive Corellian brandy Karrde had presented them with earlier.

            Mara let the liquor roll over her tongue before swallowing it appreciatively.  "I must say, Karrde, for a man who almost never drinks you do know how to pick your booze."

            Karrde politely refused to take offensive at Mara's callous reference to the drink.  He knew that under the late Emperor's tutelage her palate was as fine as Karrde's, perhaps even finer, though she, too, seldom indulged.  No amount of training from Leia, however, had ever had much of a success on Luke, who was and always would be a farm boy at heart, preferring beer to any other form of alcoholic libation.  Not that Karrde minded.  The gift was primarily meant for Mara anyway.  "I'm glad you enjoy it," he replied.  "Consider it something of a toast, in celebration of your recovery."

            "Thank you."  Mara raised her glass in his direction, then sipped another mouthful of brandy.  When she had swallowed it with due ceremony, she continued, "As glad as I am to see you, Karrde, I must confess I was surprised to find you here."

            Settling back in his chair, Karrde frowned slightly.  "Yes, and I cannot stay as long as I might have liked.  In fact, as much as I am loathe to bring up business so quickly, I am afraid I must."  He gave Mara a wry grin.  "Now, you might want to close your ears for a minute, Mara, for I'm going to say one or two nice things about you, and I know how much you hate that."

            Mara returned his smile with a mock grimace, and he turned to Luke.  "As I said to you earlier, I am indebted to you for saving Mara's life.  I happen to believe she is one of the finest people in the galaxy.  But more importantly, I consider her a close personal friend.  Even, dare I say it, something of a daughter to me."  He shot a glance at Mara, who was staring into her brandy glass, uncharacteristically subdued.  Facing Luke again, Karrde continued, "I am indeed in your debt, and I would like to repay that debt in my own particular coin: information.

            "In all the furor which these late events have generated, I have been surprised that no one to my knowledge has yet made any effort to discover the identity of the people who kidnapped you in the first place."

            Luke and Mara exchanged glances.  Evidently, this realization had not yet occurred to them.  Karrde went on.  "I cannot account for this oversight, but I intend to correct it.  I will do everything in my power to uncover your kidnappers, and I will give that information to you and to anyone else whom you wish to know about it, at no charge."  

            Luke was stunned by the offer.  As honorable and loyal as Karrde was to his friends, he never gave anything away for free.  Tracking down the kidnappers would cost him greatly, in money as well as time and effort.  He must consider the debt to be great indeed if he would make such an undertaking for free.  Luke almost wanted to refuse, even though he knew how foolish, and even insulting, refusal would be.  "I don't really know what to say.  If you can find them, it would be ...."  He trailed off, not even sure of the possibilities.

            Karrde waved a dismissive hand, "Say no more.  The thanks are entirely on my side.  But what you can do, and you as well, Mara, is tell me everything you can remember about your captors.  I want to leave here as soon as possible to get on their trail before it gets any colder."

            They spent the next hour or so reviewing how many people had guarded Luke and Mara, how many shifts, numbers of males and females, humans and aliens, and what species.  Although their captors had been very careful to remain anonymous, and neither Luke nor Mara had ever seen any part of the ship other than their prison cells, there were nevertheless many identifying clues which two Jedi, well seasoned in space travel, could discern.  Karrde was soon able to get a rough idea of the kind of ship and the size of the crew, as well as make some deductions of his own.  "It had to be a crew of a minimum of thirty," he pronounced, "though more likely at least forty or fifty.  It could be much larger, and either the ship you were on was part of a fleet, or it was a subgroup within a larger organization.  But I would imagine not too large.  Secrecy would be of the essence, and more people means more chances for a security leak, which is also why they were almost certainly an existing organization rather than a group assembled for the task.  Off hand, I know several organizations that run with the species of aliens you mentioned.  I think I have enough information to begin a fairly defined search.  I'll contact you for more details as the search narrows."  He paused meaningfully.  "Once we find your captors, we can learn who hired them, for no mercenary will refuse to sell out when someone else can be saddled with the blame.  Then we'll know who is really behind this assassination."  Karrde fell silent, his mind already working furiously, and neither Luke nor Mara said anything, too wary even to hope for Karrde's success.

            For several minutes no one spoke, each lost in their own thoughts.  Finally, Karrde returned to himself, and he looked up at Luke almost self-consciously.  Clearing his throat, he said, "I hope you will not choose to take offense at what I'm going to say next, but will receive it in the spirit in which it is offered.  But depending on how everything turns out eventually and you need somewhere to go, or if -- not that you would of course, but _if you were to decide to give this trial a miss, please know that you will always have a place among my people.  I can make even a Jedi Master disappear.  I would love to have you work with me, and of course I have always wanted Mara to come back.  I never really have accepted your taking her away from me."_

            "Don't blame him," Mara protested.  "I left of my own volition."

            "Of course," Karrde demurred.  "But I think Luke provided some incentive.  You always did have a thing for him."

            To Karrde's amusement, it was Luke who blushed at the jibe.  To cover his embarrassment Luke said, "I do appreciate the offer, but I won't be able to take you up on it."

            "Of course not," Karrde readily agreed, although he secretly hoped Luke would change his mind.  "I just wanted you to know that you do have an option.  And now I really must return to my ship to begin assembling the data you've given me.  But first, let us drink a final toast."  He refilled their glasses, then held his aloft, pausing to think of something appropriate, something that would not give voice to their deepest fears, but which would say all that needed to be said.

            He let his gaze rest first on Mara, whom he had known and respected for so long.  Karrde believed that in her own way she was the equal of Dimishaneer Akeeno.  He only hoped she felt the same way.  Then he turned to Luke.  So-called respectable authority figures had invariably struck Karrde as hypocritical, so he had been genuinely surprised and pleased to find Luke Skywalker to be a warm, sincere, and very human, being.  He had come to love and respect the Jedi as much as he did Mara.  The fact that Luke now faced trial struck Karrde as a tremendous travesty of justice.  He only hoped the rest of the galaxy would soon realize its error.

            The toast came to him.  He tilted his glass in their direction and said, "To the very best of friends."

Mara and Luke raised their glasses as well.  "To best friends."


	5. Chapters 14-16

Chapter Fourteen: Mnemosyne 

Two mornings later, all the Jedi on Coruscant gathered in the main assembly hall of the Temple for the most significant event in the history of the New Order: Luke Skywalker's examination.  Many Jedi who no longer lived on Coruscant returned for the event, and a number of the Old Order Knights also tried to attend, but since they had chosen not to affiliate with Luke's "enclave" as they called it, the Council unanimously agreed that they had no right to sit at his examination, especially since they might try to turn Luke's disgrace to their advantage and win back the support of the galaxy.

In fact, no one who was not Jedi, with the exception of Han Solo and Chewbacca, was allowed to attend, a fact which generated a cry of protest from the press in particular, who wanted to broadcast the "trial" live by holovid.  Several commentators decried what they saw as censorship and secrecy on the part of the Jedi, but the Council maintained that since examinations were not trials at all, despite the mislabeling of the press, but were rather an opportunity for growth and self inquiry, it was only appropriate to have present those who would profit the most from the occasion.  Anath Pipir himself, as acting Master of the Jedi, would issue a press release every day to communicate their progress, and in the end a complete transcript of the examination would be made available, but no one outside the Temple would be allowed to attend.

Not that people didn't try.  Members of the press, protesters, and the merely curious all tried to sneak themselves or proxy recording devices into the Temple.  Needless to say, it is almost impossible to successfully eavesdrop on one hundred assembled Jedi without their discovering it.  The intruders were politely, but firmly, escorted from the Temple, their recorders succinctly gutted by a lightsaber blade.  

Outside the Temple, however, people could gather if they wished.  While some protesters had maintained a vigil almost as soon as Luke had originally been arrested, by the morning of the examination their numbers had swelled to a huge crowd, including many reporters who, having nothing else to cover, vigorously interviewed random members of the crowd on their ill-informed and highly biased opinions on Luke, the Jedi, Akeeno, and the eventual outcome of both the examination and the criminal trial.

In contrast to the chaos and inflamed passion of the crowd, the spirit inside the Temple was somber and subdued.  Long before the examination was scheduled to begin, the seats in the assembly hall had been filled.  The raised dais, usually at one end of the hall, had been moved into the center.  A large, round table stood on the dais, with chairs for each of the eleven members of the Council, and two additional chairs for Luke and his advocate.  Seated behind Luke was his family, Mara, Han, Chewie, and Leia, who had re-arranged her scheduled to be present for the opening of the examination and for as many of the subsequent daily two-hour sessions as she could.  All the other spectators were seated in concentric rows around the dais.

Shortly before the scheduled hour, the Council members began taking their places at the table, and the hushed murmurings of the assembly fell silent.  Luke and his advocate, Corran Horn, had been conferring in a quiet corner of the hall, and when they saw the Council begin to arrive, they took their seats at the table without a word.

Last to arrive, precisely on the hour, was the Master of the Jedi, Anath Pipir.  He closed the door to the hall behind him and walked unhurriedly to the dais.  Anath was a young man, and his natural good humor and exuberance made him seem even younger than his early 30s.  Although he was well respected for his wisdom and insight, Anath was more commonly known as the welcome provider of laughter and comic relief to the often somber business of the Jedi.  Today, however, not even a trace of his usual light humor was visible in his eyes.  He moved deliberately, purposefully, as if his new responsibilities were a physical burden.  He did not stagger under the weight.  Rather he exuded a calm but powerful strength, inspiring confidence in everyone gathered in the hall.  

He stepped onto the dais and seated himself at the table, completing the circle.  For several moments, he looked out into the assembly gathered, making eye contact, reassuring and challenging them at the same time, passing onto them some of the burden he carried, for he carried it in their behalf.  Every one of them sat in the seat of judgment with Anath, just as they all sat in the seat of examination with Luke.

When Anath was sure they all understood this, he at last spoke.  "My friends, we have gathered here for the examination of Master Luke Skywalker.  As you know, examinations usually take place within the Council Chamber with only those who are immediately concerned present.  But since all of us are concerned in this matter, Master Luke has consented to have the examination be open to you all.  There are no secrets here.  Nevertheless, I want to remind you that since Master Luke faces a criminal trial, we all need to be discreet in discussing the examination with anyone outside the Temple."  He allowed this admonition to sink in, before turning to Corran Horn.  "As Master Luke's advocate, would you like to begin?"

Corran Horn, another of Luke's earliest pupils, had long been more than qualified to sit on the Jedi Council himself, but his independent Corellian streak had called him to roam the galaxy instead.  Before he had become a Jedi, he had flown with Rogue Squadron with Wedge Antilles, and before that he had been a member of the Corellian Security Force, following in the footsteps of his father, who had once tried unsuccessfully to bring a certain young smuggler named Han Solo to justice.  After Luke had refused Anath, Corran had quickly volunteered to act as Luke's advocate.

Corran's green eyes swept the ring of faces seated around the table.  "Masters," he addressed them, "after hearing Luke's story, I find nothing to indicate that he poses any danger or threat to the galaxy.  I believe he acted in good conscience under extreme circumstances.  It will, of course, be up to you to determine the propriety of his actions, but he did not act on the dark side.

"So that you may better understand exactly what happened, I would like for Luke to tell his own story."

All eyes and ears in the hall at last turned fully to Luke, who remained silent for some time, struggling within himself.  For so long, everyone in the galaxy had been speculating on the conditions and motivations which had made Luke Skywalker an assassin, while Luke himself said nothing.  Up until yesterday he had told no one, not even Mara, the entire story.  Reviewing it with Corran had been almost unbearable, reviving horrific emotions and experiences that he never wanted to remember.  It was easier to let everyone make their own assumptions, however wrong, than to open up to them his own personal hell.  And yet he would have to tell the story, and many times: to the Jedi, to his lawyers, to the courtroom in his trial.  To lay bare the hidden torment of his soul's darkest hour seemed an even worse torture, but that was what a Jedi examination was all about: exposing inner darkness to the cleansing power of the light.  Luke doubted he would find any healing for his soul, but he trusted the people surrounding him in the hall.  Here was the safest place in the universe for him to tell his story.  So, taking a deep breath, he began.

"Mara and I were on a goodwill tour, as you know.  We were on Bogarnes, taking a few days off to go camping in the middle of nowhere.  That's where they got us.  We never even knew it.  We fell asleep in our tents and woke up imprisoned.  They had ysalamiri, and dosed us with dioxalin.  They really knew what they were doing.  We were kept in two adjacent cells separated by a two-way mirror, so I could see into Mara's cell, but only when they wanted me to.  A minimum of four guards were in each of our cells at all times, with two more outside the door.  The guards carried the ysalamiri on them so they would be protected from anything I might try with the Force, but they stayed far enough away that I could still feel the Force, although my sense was distorted from the dioxalin.  They kept me bound at all times, with good, old-fashioned rope, the most effective binding for a Jedi: no locks to pick.

"They all wore masks or hoods to conceal their identities.  They never used names, and they all wore nondescript jumpsuits with no insignia.  What few details I could learn about their identity I gave to Talon Karrde so he could try to find out who they were.

"Their leader, or at any rate the person who dealt with me, was a human female, I'd guess in her forties.  She was the only one who ever spoke to me, and she wasted no time telling me what they wanted: for me to kill Dimishaneer Akeeno.  They gave me three days to decide.  If I agreed, they would let Mara and me go free.  If I didn't --."  He stopped and swallowed hard.  When he spoke again his voice trembled.  "They would kill Mara, and I alone would go free."

A ripple of shock coursed throughout the spectators.  Everyone had been expecting it, yet to hear from Luke's own lips the choice he had been forced to make, lanced through the hearts of all who loved him.  Mara squeezed her eyes tightly shut.  Even though she knew everything that had happened, to hear it from Luke's point of view was more than she could bear.  Beside her, Han placed his arm around her shoulders, his own memories of Bespin threatening to overwhelm him.

Luke cleared his throat and continued.  "So that was it.  And they just began…torturing Mara to death."  His voice grew weaker and more broken, his breath uneven, as he struggled to hold back the horror of those days.  "They would rest several hours between each session.  I could only see into the cell whenever they tortured her.  There were speakers, too, of course, although she almost never screamed.  They didn't like that, but it hardly mattered since I could feel it all through the Force.

"First they broke her ankles, with a sledgehammer.  It would also hinder her escaping.  They beat her, electrocuted her.  They broke the fingers of her left hand, one by one.  They held her right hand over a flame.  Whenever she could, she would say, 'Don't do it, Luke.  Don't give in to them.  I can bear it.  Be strong.'  She knew their intentions, even if she didn't know what they were asking.  She tried to help me, and I tried to be strong.  I said to myself, 'I'm a Jedi.  _She's a Jedi.  We would both die to save Akeeno's life.  I can't murder Akeeno, it would violate everything I believe, everything I've ever stood for."_

"But when they held her hand over that flame and she was getting weaker, I knew without a doubt that there was no escape.  They would torture her to death, and I would watch her – my wife!  -- die before my eyes.  And I could not bear it.  It was too great a sacrifice.  So I gave in."  Luke sank down into himself, growing smaller in the chair.  He began to tremble violently, as if fighting to hold in some terrible emotion.  Then the words exploded out of him, ringing throughout the hall.  "I let them torture her for two days!  My only regret is that I did not give in sooner!"

The force of his assertion stunned everyone.  Mara covered her ears with her hands, trying to squeeze Luke's words out of her head, willing herself not to run out of the hall.  She could not bear to witness Luke's self torture any more than he could bear to watch hers at the hands of their captors.

Luke calmed himself down, and when he spoke again his voice was flat and emotionless.  "I gave in, but I wanted assurance they would keep their end of the bargain.  They reduced my dose of dioxalin, and the leader let me reach into her mind with the Force to determine her honesty.  I also insisted on randomly examining a guard of my choice, which they agreed to.  I picked a guard who was nervous and intimidated.  His thoughts also indicated that they were only interested in Akeeno's death and they would let Mara go free.  I picked up on only one clue from his mind: the name Hamarinn.  I don't know who that is, but I told Karrde so he could try to find out.

"Once I was assured they would truly let Mara go, everything else just fell into place.  I assassinated Akeeno, and met them again at the rendezvous point, where they brought Mara and the _Jade Sabre.  I flew her to Myrmidon so she could be treated, and then I turned myself in.  That's it."_

Luke fell silent, and no one spoke, absorbing all that he had said.  Anath's face was impassive, hiding his own torment.  He loved Mara and couldn't bear to think of her tortured to death.  He loved Luke and couldn't bear to think of him watching his wife's death.  Anath's heart cried out in protest at the way his friends had been abused, but it also cried out for Akeeno's death.  Both actions were wrong.  How could they be resolved?

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Anath said, "I think we need to end for today so that all of us can meditate on what you have said.  But before we break, is there anything else you want to add, Luke?"

Luke straightened, all previous uncertainty gone, as he asserted with clarity and purpose, "I violated my oath as a Jedi to protect the innocent.  I murdered a good and noble leader.  I know that and am prepared to accept the consequences of my actions.  But know this: I did so voluntarily, of my own free will."  He leaned forward, his eyes blazing with defiance.  "And I would do it again to protect Mara."  

  


Chapter Fifteen: The Hunt Begins

Talon Karrde sat in the briefing room of his ship the _Wild Karrde, his top investigators arranged around the table.  Shada, his second in command, sat to his right, a data pad in her hand.  She looked to Karrde, who faced the others and said, "Based on what Luke and Mara described to us about the crew, Shada compiled a list of all possible organizations that might fit the parameters.  You all have been given the list and reviewed what you know.  Let us now go through the list and see if we can't narrow it down."  He nodded to Shada._

Raising the pad, Shada began to name the candidates: criminal organizations, pirates, bounty hunters, soldiers for hire, space gypsies, even rogue freedom fighters rebelling against Empire and Republic alike.  Over twenty groups had made the list, and these were only the most likely.  An additional thirty or so could also be possibilities, but they had to start somewhere.

Karrde's network of informants was widespread and knowledgeable.  They were rapidly able to eliminate the groups whose whereabouts could be verified during the time of Luke and Mara's capture, or who could not be possibilities for other reasons.

The results were better than Karrde had hoped.  Only five organizations remained.  He nodded in satisfaction.  "Not bad.  The field has considerably narrowed."

Shada frowned, "Some of these that we eliminated could possibly still have done it.  The proof of their whereabouts is weak, or--."

"It doesn't matter.  This gives us a place to start.  The next thing we need to consider is what clue will most obviously identify the group."

Chal volunteered, "I can start tracing which organization recently came into a large sum of money."

Karrde shook his head.  "I think it will be easier than that.  They had ysalamiri.  There is only one place they can get them from.  Either they went to Myrkyr themselves and succeeded in transferring the ysalamiri to the nutrient frames, something which we know takes great experience and technical knowledge, or more likely they got them through a supplier."  He frowned.  "Unfortunately, I haven't kept up with who the suppliers are these days.  Anyone?"

"Torris on Plithia used to do it," Chal said, "but she was arrested years ago."

Danlon added, "Janodral Mizar was killed in a bar fight.  I remember it made the news."

"Anyone else?" Karrde asked, but they only shook their heads at each other.  "I stopped keeping up with the ysalamiri trade ever since the peace treaty.  With things settled down in the galaxy, no one seemed foolish enough to take on the Jedi.  I should have known better."

"I can start making inquiries," Shada said.  "It shouldn't be too hard to find out."

"Yes, unfortunately a general inquiry might tip off our prey.  We don't want them to go underground, or to know we're looking for them."  He stroked his salt-and-pepper beard thoughtfully.  "We have to be careful in our inquiries, try to find someone who might actually be sympathetic to Skywalker's plight, or at least not hostile to him."

"Why would someone who deals in ysalamiri," Shada inquired, "creatures whose only value is their ability to thwart the Jedi, be sympathetic to Luke Skywalker?"

"Certainly not any criminals," Karrde agreed.  "But a government, perhaps?"

The others seated around the table exchanged wary glances.

His decision made, Karrde commed the bridge.  A disembodied voice answered, "Yes, Captain?"

"Aves, plot a course for Bastion."

A pause.  "Bastion, sir?"

"That is correct.  Let me know as soon as you have calculated our ETA."  He shut off the comm and smiled at his amazed crew.  "Yes, the Empire.  It's been a long time since I saw Admiral Pellaeon.  A visit is definitely overdue."

*****

Three days later, the _Wild Karrde flew into Imperial space. Karrde was not exactly an unknown on Bastion.  Ever since the Empire and Republic had signed a peace treaty, Karrde had adapted his trade to deal in information which he supplied to both sides in order to broker confidence.  He was in fact a welcome personality among the Empire, and shortly after landing he found himself ushered into Admiral Pellaeon's well-appointed office._

"Captain Karrde," Pellaeon smiled, extending his hand to shake Karrde's firmly.  "It is a great pleasure to see you.  I don't suppose you have brought me any information?"

Karrde pursed his lips.  "Actually, I'm here to ask you something."

Pellaeon raised an eyebrow.  "I hope you don't think the Empire had anything to do with the events on Pamylasia."

"Of course not.  You have nothing to gain from it.  Besides, it is hardly your style."

"But it _is why you're here."  A statement, not a question._

Karrde saw no reason to conceal his purpose.  "Yes.  I'm trying to find out the identity of the people who kidnapped Skywalker and Mara Jade.  They had ysalamiri, and I thought you might be able to tell me who was still supplying them."

Pellaeon hesitated.  Now that the war was over, the Empire should have no more need for ysalamiri.  Only criminals should want to subvert the Jedi.  He considered denying any knowledge of the affair whatsoever, but he doubted Karrde would believe him.  Besides, Karrde understood Pellaeon's position as military leader of the Republic's only rival.  Subterfuge was not necessary.  "I do have that information," he said slowly.  "While I have no current need for ysalamiri, I would hate to jeopardize my sources.  An Admiral wants to keep all his options open."

"I understand," Karrde agreed.  "I have no intention of having those sources arrested or reporting them to the Republic.  I only want to learn whom they have supplied them to."

Pellaeon knew Karrde's word was good, but it still made him uneasy.  "And what are you willing to offer in exchange for this information?"

"I am prepared to make a very generous financial contribution to the Empire."

To Karrde's surprise, Pellaeon laughed.  "Are you acting independently, or is the Republic financing your offer?"

Karrde only smiled.  "This is a personal matter."

"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten how fond you are of Skywalker.  Did you not stand up with the bride at their wedding?"

"You were invited to attend as well."

"Yes.  Sometimes I regret choosing not to be present.  It must have been something to see: law-and-order types on the groom's side, Imperials and criminals on the bride's."

Karrde's smile faded slightly.  "Actually, the division was not so clear-cut."

Pellaeon nodded. "I know.  Believe it or not, I watched the holovid broadcast." He sobered slightly.  "But seriously, Karrde, do you really think the Empire is so hard up for cash we would want to sell such important information to you?"

"I can pay quite handsomely."

"I'm sure you could, but I'm interested in an exchange, not a sale."

"Do you have a counter offer?"

"Perhaps you could update me on the Republic's military technology?"

Karrde maintained an even face, but gritted his teeth.  He could not let Pellaeon know how desperate he was to help Luke.  Indeed, he wasn't sure himself.  Would he be willing to sell out the Republic to help Luke?  He hoped it would not come to that.  "Surely you remember that any information I share with you I must also share with the Republic?  I do not deal in secrets; I deal in information."

"A subtle point, perhaps.  But you must allow I had to ask.  Actually, I have something else in mind.  These people you're looking for: they captured two Jedi, I daresay the two most powerful Jedi in the galaxy.  They succeeded in forcing Luke Skywalker into assassinating Dimishaneer Akeeno, no small feat.  And so far they have remained undiscovered.  These are truly talented people.  And one thing any military organization needs more than money is talented people.  When you learn who they are -- _if you do -- will you let the Republic arrest them, or will you capture them yourself?"_

Karrde smirked.  "I do not trust the Republic to have the subtlety to catch them.  I plan to take them myself."  

Pellaeon leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests.  "You don't really need the entire organization for your purpose, do you?  Really, they aren't the ones you're after.  You want whoever hired them.  All you need is one person to sell out, and for that matter it doesn't even have to be the leader.  The second in command, perhaps, or any lacky who knows who hired them."

"I would prefer the leader.  It would add to the credibility of whatever information she or he provided."

Pellaeon nodded.  "If you insist, I shall not contradict.  But whoever you decide to keep, I would like the rest of the organization brought to Imperial space first, so that they may claim asylum with us."

Again Karrde hesitated, not sure he wanted people skilled in capturing Jedi to join up with the Empire.

But Pellaeon read his mind.  "Don't worry.  I have enough confidence in my own ability to deal with the Jedi.  But as I said, any group who could have pulled it off must be intelligent, highly skilled, and great at teamwork -- qualities I would value.  I would not force them to join us.  I only want to give them the opportunity.  If they choose not to join, you may do with them what you will."

Karrde considered.  "Very well.  I claim the right to keep as many of them as I deem necessary, although I doubt I would need more than one.  Two at the most, to corroborate.  The rest may have their chance with you.  Now, who are the suppliers?"

"There is actually only one that I know of.  Demand dried up with the peace.  They are such temperamental creatures to keep alive, you know.  The supplier is a Rodian named Beppo who lives on Myrkyr itself.  I will give you the details on how to contact him.  I trust you won't tell him led you to him."

"Of course not.  And I do appreciate your help."

"You are most welcome.  And good luck," Pellaeon smiled with genuine warmth.  "Not only in finding them, but in helping Skywalker."

  


Chapter Sixteen: Escape

Lanari Barusch sat in her office, staring idly out the window.  After the morning's examination, she had tried to busy herself with work.  The Council had elected not to meet again until after the next session, when they would actually have something to discuss.  For now they were all supposed to meditate on Luke's story of what had unfolded during his and Mara's disappearance.

But Lanari could not bring herself to think about it, nor did she see the point, at least not yet.  She had heard enough horror stories in her life; she preferred not to dwell on them.  So she had tried to pass the time by consulting with one or two students on aspects of their study.  No one was really in the mood for it, however.  Next she attempted to read some reports, but after reading the same page five times and still not remembering what she had read, she finally gave up, and sat staring out of the window, for how long she did not know.

A knock on her door interrupted her stupor.  Relieved for some diversion, she looked up.  The door was pushed open, and Mara Jade peeked into the office.  "You busy?"

Dread twitched in Lanari's stomach.  She hoped Mara didn't want to discuss the situation with her.  She wasn't sure she could stand it.  With some hesitation, she gestured for Mara to enter.  "I'm not really doing anything."  

Mara walked in and immediately picked up a smooth wooden figurine from Lanari's desk.  Lanari couldn't remember where she had originally gotten it, but Mara loved the feel of it in her hand, and she played with it whenever she came to Lanari's office.  One of these days Lanari figured she ought to just give it to her.

Mara rolled the figure back and forth between her palms.  "Have anything on the schedule for tonight?"

"Uh...no.  Why?"

"I have to get out of the Temple," Mara said, nervous energy spiking through her Force presence.  "If I stay here another minute, I'll go insane.  I was thinking we could hit some of the lowlife bars, get roaring drunk, pick a fight with some swoopies."

Lanari's eyes widened.  "Wow, we haven't done that since..."

"Since the wedding," Mara smirked.

"But do you really want to get drunk?"

"Absolutely shitfaced."  When Mara noticed Lanari's continuing disbelief, she added, "I know, but there's a first time for everything, and now certainly seems like as good a time as any."

"And a barroom brawl?"

Mara shrugged.  "All right, let's just focus on the drunken part and improvise the rest."

Lanari shook her head, but she couldn't hold back a smile.  She and Mara had very similar backgrounds.  Lanari had been another one of the Emperor's Force-user experiments, although she never really entered into active service.  She was only sixteen when the Emperor died.  Like Mara she found employment in the underworld, where she eventually formed her own crack mercenary team before she met Luke Skywalker and became one of his first apprentices.  Both women were completely devoted to the Jedi way, but every once in a while they felt the need to revisit, however briefly, their former lawless days.

"Well, I'm honored," Lanari drawled.  "If you picked me to be there the first time you ever get really drunk, how can I refuse?  I have to call Marquet, though, and let him know I'll be out."

Mara tossed the wooden figure to Lanari, "And change into civvies.  Insofar as it's possible, I want us to go incognito."

"That's good," Lanari mused.  "It wouldn't really do for two Jedi to get arrested for brawling.  No matter how fun it might be."

*****

Within twenty minutes they were in an airtaxi headed to one of the sleazier regions of Coruscant.  The crowd in the first bar they entered was disappointingly subdued, but then it was still rather early in the day.  The real punks probably hadn't even woken up yet from the previous night's binge.

Lanari decided to start Mara out slow on the alcohol.  The truth was Mara had never really been drunk before.  Under the Emperor's tutelage she knew how to consume, or looked like she was consuming, liquor at an alarming rate without being affected by it.  Mara never wanted her senses to be impaired, something Lanari in her former line of work had also appreciated.  Nevertheless, Lanari had gone on the occasional bender, so drinking was one area, at least, where she had more experience than Mara.  They drank a little, played some pool, and Mara even got up and sang a few songs at the open mike to the soporific early evening crowd.  She had a good voice and could sing in a range of styles, but she only picked hard-core blues songs, all about how rotten and painful love was.  Lanari wasn't sure whether Mara picked them for the music or the lyrics, but probably on some level, conscious or not, the words vocalized emotions Mara could not otherwise express.  Lanari could sympathize well: she, too, was a graduate of the Palpatine School for the Emotionally Stunted.

They moved on to another bar, where they managed to get into a fierce argument with some swoopies, but no fighting came of it.  While Lanari certainly enjoyed a good fight, she really did not want to get into a brawl.  Aside from the strong possibility of their getting arrested, which could only hurt Luke's situation, Mara had not yet fully recovered from her injuries.  Fortunately, however, the more intoxicated Mara became the more she was willing to settle for bluster without blows.

At one point she challenged some swoopies to a speeder bike race, but Lanari managed to talk her out of it, pointing out that engaging in an illegal race while under the influence of alcohol was probably not the most prudent thing to do.  Instead, they settled for being merely uncouth and obnoxious.

Three bars in a row kicked them out for drunk and disorderly conduct, an accomplishment which pleased them both.  Still, Mara managed to coax the bartender at the last place into selling them a bottle of cheap Ithorian whiskey.  The stuff tasted like engine coolant, but by that point they were too drunk to care.  They staggered their way to one of the areas that had been destroyed by Grand Admiral Thrawn's assault on Coruscant ten years back.  The area had never been rebuilt, and they scrambled on top of the rubble, finding a perch where they could watch the night lights of the city as they passed the bottle back and forth between them.

Mesmerized by the night traffic passing by overhead, Mara mused, "I know how much Luke hates this place, but I love Coruscant.  I grew up here."

"Never was much of a nature lover myself," Lanari agreed.

"Every time I visit the Imperial Palace, I still feel some of that old thrill.  I know Palpatine was evil, but you have to admit there's something very self-assured, absolute, about the raw drive for power for its own sake."  

"I know what you mean.  _'Easier, quicker, more seductive.'  It's kind of sexy."_

Mara snorted in laughter.  "It's _definitely sexy."  She sighed and took a long drink from the bottle, then passed it over to Lanari.  "I'd have made one hell of a Sith Lord."  She cocked her head at Lanari.  "So if you'd gone to the Dark Side, how many star systems would you be ruling now?"_

Lanari laughed with wicked delight.  She loved these conversations with Mara.  If any of the other Jedi ever heard them, they would take it is a sign Lanari and Mara harbored secret darksider tendencies.  But it was all part of the game they played.  "I wouldn't rule any system.  I never envied the Emperor his role.  Even despots have to at least pretend to be accountable."  She hugged her knees to her chest, indulging in her forbidden fantasy.  "Instead, I'd create my own underworld empire.  I'd force the existing leaders to yield to my demands."

"I would definitely be Emperor," Mara contended.  "The power, the pomp, all of it.  By now I'd be ruling the entire galaxy."

"And I would be opposing you, trying to tear your empire apart from the inside."

"Yes, but how we would respect each other," Mara chuckled.  "Like two slavering Hutt crime lords."  She looked back up at the sky, silent for several moments.  "Actually, I never wanted to be Emperor.  I was happy to serve in the shadows.  It was perfect, really.  I had power, wealth, and total anonymity.  I was like a sleekrat, slipping in an out of the shadows, ready at any moment to strike."

The image was a little too vivid for Lanari, and she shivered.  "I'm glad I didn't know you then."

Mara laughed again, dispelling the shadows.  "Oh, but the perks of service to the Emperor were good.  You know he once gave me a gown made entirely of Mandalorian spider silk?"  Lanari whistled in astonishment.  Mara continued, "I'm not talking just the trim.  The entire dress was made of the stuff.  It cost 250,000 Imperial credits."

Lanari's head reeled.  "I've never even seen any Mandalorian silk.  It's supposed to be the finest fabric in the galaxy.  What did feel it like to wear it?"

"Like --," Mara's eyes grew dreamy as she sought the proper words.  "Like nothing.  Literally!  I couldn't wear underwear with it."  She collapsed into a fit of giggles, rapidly joined by Lanari.  "I think I only ever wore it twice in public, it was too embarrassing.  But it was a beautiful gown, very simple lines, and of the lightest shade of blue.  Almost the color of my lightsaber blade.  Sometimes I would just wear that dress around my apartment, it felt so good.  Like wearing a cloud.  No, like wearing a breath of wind."  A nostalgic smile lit her face as she remembered the gown.  Abruptly her face fell.  Lanari began to worry and was about to ask what was wrong, when Mara's expression softened, and she said in a tender voice, "No, I know exactly what it was like.  It was like Luke's hands on my body.  Like his lips on my skin.  Only not nearly so soft."

Lanari shivered again, this time from the waves of tender pain rolling off of Mara.

"Once," Mara continued, lost in her own thoughts, "the Emperor entrusted me with ten million credits worth of singing gems.  When the stones rub together, they make an exquisite sound, like the vibration of the stars.  But they sound like broken glass compared to Luke's voice."

Lanari began, "Mara --."

But Mara ignored her.  "Another time the Emperor held an exclusive dinner party.  He served Agamari nectar, 10,000 credits a glass.  It tasted like honey laced with gold dust.  But compared to Luke's kisses...."  She trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut.

Beside her, Lanari sat in torment.  She took a long drink from the whiskey bottle to strengthen herself.  She knew Mara had spoken with no one about what had happened.  Listening to Luke's examination must be agony for her.  She needed to open up, and Lanari knew she was the most likely candidate to whom Mara would open her heart because the two of them were so unaccustomed to sharing confidences with anyone.  But that was the precise reason why Lanari did not want to hear what Mara had to say.  Lanari could still hardly bear to face the emotional depths of her own life.  How could she possibly endure Mara's, especially now?

"How I love that man," Mara sighed.  "Force help me, but I do."  She turned and pressed her face against her knees, huddling like a lost child abandoned in the cold.  Lanari was terrified she might start to cry.  Then she raised her head.  "Listen to me," she remarked in a more normal tone.  "I sound like some kind of romantic.  Pathetic, isn't it?"

"I'll say," Lanari agreed, guiltily relieved that the emotional moment had passed.  "I was waiting for the violins to start playing."

Mara dramatically rolled her eyes, then pressed her hands to her temples to hold back the throbbing the gesture had induced.  Unsteadily she climbed to her feet.  "What say we hit some more bars?"

"Absolutely," Lanari readily concurred, swallowing another gulp of whiskey.

As it turned out, their next bar was their last.  They met up with some Valinese space jockeys and tossed back shots until Mara threw up, which pleased her immensely as she had never been so drunk before.  With that, Lanari decided to call it a night.  Even though it was not yet midnight, they both had to be at Luke's examination the next morning, and it wouldn't do to show up hungover.

They made it back to Lanari and Marquet's apartment, giggling uncontrollably, where Marquet administered aspirin and copious amounts of water to stave off any hangover.  Mara did not want to return home.  Luke had never seen her so much as tipsy, and now was not the time she wanted to impose herself on him in such a state.  Which was just as well, since she probably couldn't have made it home anyway.  She fell into a deep sleep as soon as she stretched out on the couch.

Lanari was not far behind, and to the sonorous tune of their snores, Marquet called Luke to assure him that his wife was all right.  Marquet wasn't sure how Luke would take the news, but to his surprise, Luke found the whole thing amusing.  His only regret was that he didn't get to see her drunk himself.

Secretly, Luke was pleased that Mara had found some way to relieve some of her tension, and he was very glad Lanari had gone with her.  The fact that she had chosen to get drunk did not auger well for her current emotional state, but Luke knew that even if he were not burdened with his own troubles, he did not know how to deal with a depressed and melancholy Mara Jade.  So he was content to leave her with Lanari and Marquet, while he returned to his empty bed, hugging her pillow as he fell asleep.


	6. Chapters 17-19

Author's note:  I apologize in advance: Mara gets pretty melodramatic in ch. 18.  I wrote this a couple of years ago, when my depiction of angst tended toward melodrama.  My writing has improved since then.  I just ask that you bear with it here!  Also I am very interested to know what people think about the ethical issues presented by this story.  Realistic?  Out of character?  Defensible? Indefensible?  Thank you so much for your feedback! Chapter Seventeen: Examination 

The sugar rush from the alcohol woke Mara up fairly early the next morning.  Lanari and Marquet were still asleep, so Mara left quietly without waking them.  She did not feel anywhere near as badly as she thought she would, although her head still spun a bit.  Perhaps she was still a little drunk, as she felt very mellow and tender.  She wanted to see Luke again, as feelings welled up in her that she had kept suppressed the last week or so, for fear she would be overwhelmed.

She shuffled back to their apartment and cautiously opened the door.  Luke was seated at the table, sipping some juice while he read a book.  He looked up, and his eyes widened in surprise to see her.  "Good morning," he greeted.  She only smirked in reply.  He rose and slowly approached her.  "I hear you were on quite a tear last night."

She flinched.  "How did you know?"

"Marquet called me."

"Ah."  She appeared sheepish.

Shaking his head in amusement, Luke asked, "How do you feel?"

She raised a hand to her forehead.  "Not too bad actually.  I thought hangovers would be worse.  But then I may still be a little drunk."  She noticed his smile and frowned.  "You think that's funny, do you?"

"To be honest, yes.  You know, most of us do our binge drinking in our younger years."

"So I'm a late bloomer."

"Actually, I'm mad at you," he chided gently.  "A drunk Mara Jade?  This I would want to see."

She spread her arms wide and gave him a rakish grin that would rival Han Solo's.  "Well, you're seeing me now," she announced as she folded her arms around his waist.  "What's it look like?"

"You look --."  He paused, then shook his head and gave her a skeptical look.  "You don't want to know what you look like."

"Fabulous.  Well, at least you have the satisfaction of knowing you've driven me to drink."

Although she meant it in jest, the statement struck too close to home.  He shook it off, not wanting to let it ruin the warmth of this moment.  "I always thought it would be the other way around."

She leaned up against him, her fingers curling in the hair at the back of his neck.  "You know, you really are a very handsome man, Luke Skywalker," she purred, gazing up at him through her lashes.  Luke felt all the tension he had been holding in began to melt away, as a delicious warmth spread throughout his body.  Mara's lips curled in a wicked smile.  "Hey, is that your lightsaber, or are you just --"

Luke groaned.  "Not that old joke!  Really, Mara."  He was astonished to see her dissolve into giggles.  Mara _never giggled.  "Do you really find that funny?"_

She snorted an ungraceful laugh in reply.  "Present arms, soldier!"

"Oh, Mara, honestly," Luke chided,  blushing.

She drew his face down to hers and kissed him deeply.  She tasted a little sour, but Luke hardly minded.  When they came up for air, he observed, "You're kind of randy when you're drunk."

"Oh, speaking of which, do I have time for a shower?"

Luke blinked.  "Uh... yeah."

"Care to join me, farm boy?" she offered huskily, grinding her hips against him.

Luke swallowed hard, then cleared his throat.  "Actually, I'm supposed to meet Corran in --," he glanced at a clock, "-- about twenty minutes."

She tilted her head from side to side as if making a mental calculation, then pronounced, "That's enough time."

"Mmmm.  Not for what I would have in mind."

Mara growled low in her throat, smiling archly at him.  "All right, then.  I'll take my shower while you meet with Corran.  Until then, you're mine, farm boy."

Luke had no objection.

*****

After Luke had left to meet Corran, Mara took a quick shower.  The water felt cool against her skin, but it washed all traces of Luke's scent off her.  By the time she was dressed and heading to the Assembly Hall, her melancholy had returned.  Is that all they would have anymore, time for a few stolen kisses, before Luke would be called away to answer for what he'd done?  If it had been any other kind of meeting, Mara would have pressed him to stay, to be late.  But she could not urge him to skip the examination or the trial.  They had been married less than a year, and she was losing him already.

Without a word, she settled down into her chair between Han and Leia, directly behind Luke where she could hear him but did not have to see his face.  Flanked by Luke's oldest friends, Mara found herself resenting them and all the years they had with him.  Were they with him last night while she was off with Lanari?  Why was she pushed to avoid Luke in what might very well be their last days together?  She felt Leia and Han's looks of concern, but she resolutely shut herself off from them, staring stonily forward.  _Yes, stone, she thought.  __That's what I'll become.  Hard, cold, and unfeeling.  She clenched her jaw tightly.  __A Jedi knows no pain.  She knew she was misusing the old maxim, but she didn't care._

Up on the dais, the last members of the Council were taking their places.  When they were all assembled, Anath invited, "Corran?"

With a soft sigh, the advocate turned to Luke.  If yesterday had been difficult for the Jedi Master, today would be even harder.  In their meetings, Corran had repeatedly encouraged Luke to reflect on the morality behind his actions, something which the Master was surprisingly reluctant to do.  Corran believed Luke had made his decision based on a moral belief, and not on the absence of morality as Luke kept insisting.  But getting Luke to recognize and articulate it, let alone convincing the Council, would prove difficult.  Corran had to phrase his examination carefully, and Corellians were not known for their skill with words.

The beginning, however, was easy enough.  His voice gentle and reassuring, Corran said to Luke, "Yesterday you told us the circumstances of your decision.  Today, I want you to tell us why you did what you did."

Before Corran could continue, Luke interrupted, his voice even and resolute, with a hint of defiance, "I can't excuse it.  Killing Akeeno was wrong."

_Not off to a good start, Corran groaned inwardly.  Fortunately, Luke left him an out.  "That's not what I asked," Corran observed mildly.  "If killing Akeeno was wrong, then why did you do it?"_

Luke paused before answering.   Corran watched his Master struggling, aware from his conversations with Luke how reluctant he was to delve into his motivations.  After a moment, Luke seemed to reach some conclusion within himself.  "I was being selfish," he pronounced, in the same tone he had used earlier.

Eyebrows raised, Corran repeated, "It was selfish to kill Akeeno?"

"Selfish because --." Luke shrank back again, then forced himself to go on, "Because I didn't want my wife to die."

From where he was seated, Corran could see Mara out of the corner of his eyes.  His gaze flicked quickly to her, but her expression betrayed no emotion, or even that she had heard.  Corran turned his attention back to Luke.  "And how is that selfish?"

The question surprised Luke, for the selfishness of it seemed apparent to him.  "Because I put my needs ahead of the needs of others," he answered, sounding like a school boy a reciting a memorized lesson.

Corran took a moment to gauge the emotional state of the assembly.  No one really seemed surprised by anything Luke had said said so far.  Although they felt no hostility toward Luke, they agreed with the Master's assessment of the situation: protecting his wife at such an expense was selfish.  _Time for us all to review our training.  Deliberately assuming the tone of a patient teacher, Corran asked, "Luke, what is the first duty of the Jedi?"_

Frowning in consternation, Luke quickly answered, "To protect the innocent.  I failed in that task.  I willingly took the life of an innocent person."

"Why?"  Corran asked again, as if quizzing a first-year student on a history lesson.

Corran's attitude began to wear on Luke, who believed he should be censured, not coddled.  "I told you why!" he blurted out in frustration.  "I didn't want my wife to die."

Smoothly, Corran continued, "And was Mara innocent?  Did she deserve to be tortured to death?"

For the first time Luke looked fully at Corran, confusion troubling his features.  "No...," he faltered.

"Then how can you say saving her was wrong?"

Luke had no answer.  Something seemed wrong with Corran's logic, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

Master Garamond, however, could, and he spoke up.  "It's true, Mara was innocent," he acceeded, "but she knew the risks involved.  She is a Jedi.  We all have agreed to the responsibility of that role, and we have accepted the risks.  Master Luke, would you have given your life to protect Akeeno's?"

"Yes, of course --," Luke began.

"And wouldn't Mara?"

"Yes," Luke answered with certainty.

"Then why, if you knew she would give her life for Akeeno, did you choose to exchange Akeeno's life for hers?"

Wearily, Luke closed his eyes, having gone over this exact same line of thought hundreds of times.  Logically his conclusion made no sense, but it was the only one he could offer.  "Because it wasn't her decision to make.  It was mine alone."  He raised his eyes to Garamond's, his expression resolved.  "And I could not bear to watch her die."

Before anyone else could jump in, Corran rescued his line of reasoning.  "And how is that wrong?"

Again, Corran's question shattered Luke's certainty, and he turned a confused gaze on his advocate, unable to speak.

And as before, Garamond spoke up.  "But there is an error in your logic, Corran.  You still discount the fact that as a Jedi, Mara knew the risks that she might die in the performance of her duty to protect the innocent, as might every one of us here."

Corran's green eyes bored into Garamond, not in anger but in determination.  "And what of Akeeno?  Didn't she know the risks, too?"  His gaze swept across the entire assembly, and his voice rose to make sure everyone heard him.  "I assure you, she did.  Years ago, when the Barons' grip on Pamylasia seemed unrelenting, Akeeno could have chosen to play it safe and not get involved.  But she took the risk then, and was imprisoned for two decades because of it.  Again, when she was released from prison, she could have chosen a life of quiet retirement with her husband, and everyone would have said that she earned it.  But she chose to take up the mantle of leadership and run for president, a role that carries risks along with its responsibilities, just like the Jedi."

He turned back to face the Council.  "You say Mara knew the risks, and so she did.  But by the same logic, so did Akeeno.  You say Akeeno was an innocent and did not deserve to die.  _But we must also say the same of Mara."_

Through the Force, Corran sensed that he held the entire assembly's attention.  No one had seen the paradox before.  Even Garamond had no ready reply.  For a moment, an arrogant pride surged through Corran, to have stumped even the Masters, but he paused, internally shaking away the feeling of triumph.  The point here was not to win an argument, or even to defend a comrade.  The point was to examine, to explore actions and motivations for that what was true in the Force, and that which was false and not to be trusted.

Properly humbled, Corran sat back in his chair, taking a deep breath before continuing.  "Two innocents, neither of whom deserved to die, and yet both knew that in carrying out their responsibilities they ran that risk."  He tilted his head, his eyes again sweeping around the table at the faces of the Council members.  "But neither of them was asked to give up their lives.  Instead, the decision of choosing between them was forced on Luke.  Was it wrong to kill Akeeno?  Yes.  But it is also wrong to force a man to watch his wife be tortured to death."

The hall fell completely silent as everyone pondered the truth of what Corran said and considered again the dilemma with which Luke had been faced.  The simple answer of saving Akeeno was not so obvious anymore.

Garamond was still troubled by Corran's reasoning, but he hesitated to say anything.  He was relatively new to the Council and was known for his sense of duty, a sense which some on the Council felt was too strict.  He often disagreed with Luke over these exact issues.  As much as he respected Luke, he nevertheless felt too often that Luke's ethics, his sense of duty, was too sloppy.  Luke's actions on Pamylasia now seemed to confirm what Garamond had always believed, but this knowledge only troubled him the more deeply.  Nevertheless, he hesitated now to continue to press his point for fear of being seen as too critical and harsh, especially since the flow of sympathy was now leaning toward Luke.  His silence was perhaps motivated by a political concern rather than a desire to follow the truth, yet he still could not bring himself to speak.  He looked to some of the other Masters to say something, particularly Anath, but the acting Master remained silent, his brow furrowed.  Garamond's gaze passed onto others around the circle, but only one pair of eyes met his: Master Faruccio, an Ithorian.  Faruccio was also new to the Council, but Ithorians were known throughout the galaxy for their wisdom.  Faruccio caught Garamond's unspoken plea and straightened in his chair.

The Ithorian cleared his throat.  "Akeeno and Mara were both innocent, yes," he began slowly, thoughtfully stroking his beard as if drawing the words out of his throat.  "And neither deserved to die.  But we must remember that more than two lives were at stake.  Countless others have been affected by the decision Luke made.  There are riots on Pamylasia.  The government has been weakened at a critical point in its history, and the peace threatens to collapse.  Should not the question of the greater good weigh into Master Luke's decision?  Yet so far he has made no mention of this responsibility."

An answer leapt quickly into Corran's mind, but before he could say anything, Luke spoke up.  "Greater good?" he echoed shaking his head, whether in disagreement or disbelief Corran was unsure.  He struggled for words before confessing, "I wish I knew what that was!  All my life I've heard people talking about the greater good, especially when it comes to some horrible sacrifice or tragedy, but I honestly have never known what it means.  Maybe if I had any education beyond secondary school I would have learned what it is, but I'm just an ignorant farmer.  No amount of Jedi training has ever changed that."  He looked around the hall, his eyes betraying a crushing regret.  "I'm sorry, but everything you've always believed about me, that I'm a moral leader with some kind of ethical code, it's all lie."

Shock rippled through the hall.  Whenever they had expected to hear from Luke, this was certainly not it.  His words now were even harder to believe than his killing of Akeeno.  Corran felt his heart sink, and he glanced again at Mara.  She had not changed, but beside her Leia's face was stricken.  Her hands clutched her throat, and she looked as it she was about to stand and speak up.  Corran wondered what she would say.  Would she speak in Luke's behalf, or would she turned against him?

Heads shook in denial, but Luke protested, "It's true!  What do I know about philosophy or ethics, or any of those things?  You act as if I made my decision based on some morality, and so you should expect, but the truth is morality never entered the picture.  I made my decision solely based on what I could live with.  As horrible as it was, as evil as I knew it was, I could live with killing Akeeno.  But I simply could not live with watching my wife die knowing there was something I could do to prevent it, no matter how wrong.  There is no morality behind it at all.  All the causes people believe I have upheld, all the moral leadership, it's simply not true.  I have no right to call myself a Jedi."

Luke paused to collect himself, trying to explain.  "All I have ever known are the people around me, and all I've ever done has been because of them, and those relationships.  Growing up on Tatooine I had some vague idea of the Empire's injustice because I knew my uncle worried about what the future might hold for us.  But I never wanted to join the rebellion.  I left Tatooine not for some cause, but because my family had been killed and a beautiful princess needed help.  I wanted to be a Jedi not because I had the vaguest idea what one was, but because a man I trusted -- a man I had just met -- told me my father had been one.  For the sake of a father I never knew, I became a Jedi.

"I joined the rebellion because of the people I met, and when they were threatened, when Leia and Han and Chewie were being tortured on Bespin in a trap set for me...."  Luke faltered as painful memories washed over him.  Anguish echoed in his voice, as he laid bare for the first time the deepest truths of that fateful event in his life.  "Yoda told me I would destroy everything they fought for if I went.  And he was right."  He raised his hands helplessly.  "But I had to go, because they were my friends.  All I knew was that I couldn't live with myself if I sacrificed them for some imaginary greater cause.  They had saved my life more times than I could count, and they were being tortured because of me.  What the hell kind of person would I be if I abandoned them when they needed me, for some cause or purpose I can't see or touch or feel?"

Again he shook his head as he sagged into his chair, helpless to hold back the damning truth within his heart.  "It's all I've ever known, all I've ever done.  How can I protect and defend people I don't even know if I refuse to protect and defend the people I do know?  How can I love strangers if I can't love my friends?  How can I embrace some cause or greater good if in doing so I have to betray those nearest and dearest to me?

"That's why I couldn't kill Vader.  I know no one has ever understood that.  Most people still refuse to believe I didn't kill him and the Emperor.  I understand that.  Everyone always wanted me to kill them, even Ben and Yoda.  If ever a killing was justified in the cause of a greater good, it would be the killing of Vader.  But I refused, simply because he was my father."  A bitter laugh escaped his lips.  "What did I owe that man?  Nothing!  He sired me, that's all.  But he could have killed me on Bespin, and he didn't."  Luke's voice shrank to a whisper, almost wistful.  "I was an orphan and he was my father.  That's all I knew."  Luke's gaze turned inward, as all the hopes lost to him in his father's death washed over him, lost hopes that he knew no one, ever, would understand.  Then he shook himself, and said almost wryly, "But I got lucky on that one, because he saved me and turned back to the good."

Amid the stupefied silence Corran again found his bearing, guided by Luke's final comment.  In all the years Corran had known Luke Skywalker, through all their disagreements and reconciliations, he had never loved Luke more than at that moment, and he had never been more firmly convinced that Luke was indeed the bringer of light.  

"But was it mere luck, my friend?"  Corran's words dropped into the silence as gently as a feather falling on snow.  "You say that your life is a lie, but I think you have only articulated that which has always been true about you from the beginning.  This is what I was trying to get you to see."

Corran straightened up so all could hear him.  "We have a saying on Corellia.  'The fruit is only is good as the tree.'  How will you know if a tree is good or bad until you've eaten the fruit?  Surely a farmer can understand that," he added with a slight grin.

"And what kind of fruit has Luke borne?  He shaped all of us here.  All of our training, our entire Order is based on Luke's morality: based not on a concept of an abstract greater good, but based first on being faithful to the people you know, and from them extending that faithfulness, that sphere of responsibility, outward.

"Are any of you really surprised by anything Luke has said here?  Look into your hearts.  The man we see here is the man we have always known."

Beside him, Luke fell silent, unable to fight against Corran's defense anymore.  Corran looked at Anath Pipir.  The Allemanian returned his gaze with understanding and gratitude.  It did not mean Anath had reached any decision.  It meant Corran had acquitted himself well as Luke's advocate.  Corran bowed his head in acknowledgement.  He could not ask for higher praise, and indeed no other task that had ever been laid before him had been as important as this one.

At Corran's nod, Anath folded his hands on the table before him.  "Masters, we will adjourn now to meditate on all that has happened here.  When we are ready, we will come together again to share the insights the Force has given us.  Luke," he paused, until the Master's eyes rose to meet his.  "I thank you for your candor in this examination.  Your honesty is an example to us all."

Raising his hands above the assembly in benediction, Anath pronounced, "May the Force be with us all."

Chapter Eighteen: Curse

Even adjourned, no one in the hall moved save one person.  As soon as Anath stopped speaking, Mara rose from her chair and strode out of the room, arms wrapped tightly around herself.  Several people noticed her departure and sensed her grief, but they were too overcome themselves to offer her any comfort.

At the center of the hall, next to the dais, Chewbacca glanced at Han and Leia.  Han had moved to wrap a comforting arm around Leia's shoulders.  Chewie doubted if they had even noticed Mara's departure.  They certainly weren't going after her.  Without a word, Chewie stood and followed Mara out of the hall.

If he were human, he might have feared going to Mara's aid.  Mara never liked to show any weakness, and unsolicited offers of assistance invariably were met with a sharp rebuff.  But Chewbacca did not have much patience for the adolescent egotism of shorter-lived species.  Mara was clearly disturbed, however reluctant she might be to admit it, and Chewbacca could not ignore her need, especially since he believed he alone could truly identify with it.

His long-legged stride quickly caught up to hers and he fell into step behind her, close enough that she would know he was there, but not so close that he would seem to be imposing on her.  She walked on in silence, her face tight.

They did not stop until they reached the apartment.  Even then, Mara paced rapidly back and forth across the living room several times, her face buried in her hands.  Abruptly she stoped and looked up at Chewbacca.  "Did you hear that?" she hissed.  "That _bullshit he was going on about?"_

While Mara could not understand Wookiee, both of them knew the universal hand sign language which smugglers had invented to communicate among their own kind.  Chewie's knowledge of it was a little rusty, but his natural Force sensitivity helped to convey his meaning.  *It is not bullshit.  What he said makes perfect sense.*

"How?" Mara spat.  

*He was describing the life-debt, although he did not know it.  My culture is based on the life debt, so I understand it well.*

Mara let this information seep into her consciousness, and some of her frenzied anger melted away.  "A life-debt," she echoed.  "Someone saves your life, and you owe it to protect them in return."

*Yes.  What Luke did was perfectly right, according to a Wookiee.*

Nervously, Mara chewed on a lock of her hair as she resumed her slow pacing of the room.  Chewie knew what thoughts ran through her mind, but he waited for her to say them.  At last, she mused, "He has saved my life, many times.  I owe him a life-debt as well."

*Yes.  That is your dilemma.*

"What dilemma?" she asked, green eyes flashing in hope.  "According to a life-debt, I am duty-bound to save him."  She again resumed her pacing, gesturing rapidly as she began to formulate a plan.  "I can take him away from here.  Karrde already said he'd help us.  We'll get that damned collar off him, and --."

Chewie shook his head, *No, you cannot.*

The rage with which Mara turned on Chewie was so palpable, his fur bristled.  "Yes, I can.  I'll do whatever it takes to get him out of here."

*But you may not.  That is your dilemma.  There is only one restriction to a life-debt.  You cannot violate the wishes of the one you protect.*

Mara shrank back, and Chewie caught the first glimmering of understanding in her eyes, but she shook her head in protest.

*On Bespin I wanted to save Han.  I would have killed every stormtrooper, and Vader, too, or died trying.  That was of no concern to me.  But Han wanted me to protect the Princess.  He entrusted her to my care.  I could not go against his request, even though my entire being wanted to protect him, even to death.*

Mara's face crumbled.  Her head still shaking, she moaned, "No."

Although he knew the truth would pain her, Chewie continued, *You must ask whether Luke would want you to take him away, to violate his trial.  I think you know the answer.  May the Maker grant that I never find myself in your situation.*

Collapsing into a chair, Mara dropped her head into her hands, keening softly.

_Maker grant it, Chewie thought, __for I would not survive.  He placed his giant hand on her shoulder, but he knew there was little comfort he could truly offer._

The door opened then, and Luke and Corran entered.  Luke stopped abruptly when he saw Mara, clearly not expecting to see her, and indeed every other time she had been overwhelmed by the situation she had fled him, hiding while she regained control.  She refused to let Luke offer her any comfort.

Luke approached her, his hand outstretched toward her.  "Mara, honey, I --."

"Don't you dare!" she growled.  Startled, Chewie stepped back as she rose from the chair, her red-rimmed eyes burning.  "You don't even have the faintest idea what you said out there, do you?  You have no idea what you've done.  You couldn't bear to watch me die, you said.  You would do anything to save me.  Bullshit!  If you really loved me, you'd have let me die rather than put me through this now, for you have condemned me to the fate you refused for yourself.  Oh, I could save you, like you saved me.  I could kidnap you, take you away, violate everything you believe in, all that you are, make you hate me."  She shook her head helplessly.  "But I can't.  I won't do that to you.  And I'll be forced to watch you die knowing I could have prevented it, but I refused."

For a moment, her grief threatened to overwhelm her, but she summoned up anger instead.  Anger she could handle.  Pointing an accusing finger at her husband, she railed, "And don't tell me I'm the strong one, that I can handle it.  I was strong once.  I could survive anything, I didn't need anybody.  But I gave all that up when I married you."  Her anger again drained away, powerless against the love she felt for Luke, a love she did not fully understand and could not control.  "All I know how to do anymore is love you," she confessed.  "I don't know how to lose you.  I've never lost anyone I loved before, because I loved no one.  I'm still only just learning to love you, and now I must lose you?  I can't face that, I can't survive it."

Luke wanted to say something -- anything -- to comfort her or console her, but he couldn't.  She was absolutely right.  Dimly he was aware of Chewbacca and Corran, standing open mouthed.  But they were rendered silent by Mara's despair as much as Luke was.  The three of them could only stand and watch as the toughest person any of them had ever known crumbled before their eyes.

Mara squeezed her hands against the sides of her head, and a low moan began to grow deep in her chest.  The moan expanded into a wail, and finally a scream of rage and pain.  "I wish I had never met you!" she shrieked.  "How many times have you destroyed my life?  You destroyed my life with the Emperor, you destroyed my life with Karrde -- but that's not enough.  Now you must destroy my life with you!

"_You are a curse to me!  You are the Emperor's death curse against me because I failed him in my duty to kill you.  But he has the last laugh because you are destroying me.  You are torturing me to death worse than those bastards ever could.  I'd kill you now, but..." her voice died in her throat.  All reason, the last shred of control, evaporated, and she felt herself transformed into a living incarnation of pure despair._

She ran.  She ran past Luke and Corran, out the open door.  She ran through the hallways, not breathing, not seen the others stop in horror, not hearing their calls.  She ran to the garden at the heart of the Temple.  At the edge of the lake she stopped and threw out the scream she had been holding in for weeks.  It tore at her bowels, ripping her bleeding heart out of her chest in one long, unending cry.  It went on, even when no more breath remained in her lungs.  She flung her arms out, tearing at tree branches, ripping handfuls of grass from the earth, thrashing and striking out in the pure agony of a grief that could not be borne, beyond madness, beyond consciousness.

Her torment detonated through the Force like the shockwave of a nuclear explosion, stunning every Jedi in the Temple.  Those who were in the garden, including Anath, gathered at a distance to watch her paroxysm of despair.  Many of them, not only the younger ones, wept, overcome by the strength of Mara's emotion.  She sagged and finally collapsed on the ground, still wailing in an unbroken breath.

Anath knew he should try to contain and shield her outburst to protect the more sensitive ones among them, but her grief was too great even for him to shield.  But Anath was skilled in the healing arts. Drawing on his powers in the Force, he knelt in the grass next to her, placing one hand on her head and the other on her shoulder.  The healing Force flowed through him and into her, as he murmured, "Sleep."  Mara's cry faded into a sigh, and she relaxed into unconsciousness.

For several seconds, Anath remained in that position, channelling the Force into her.  Psychological wounds differed from physical ones, but they could be affected by the Force.  He poured into her love and empathy and hope.  _It will be all right, Mara, he sent, and he made himself believe it._

At last he opened his eyes and looked down at her.  He gently smoothed her hair, then turned to the crowd that had gathered.  He spotted Lanari and nodded to her.  In a calm voice, Anath said, "Would you stay and help with these here?  I'll take Mara to the infirmary and send someone to check on Luke."

She answered with a nod and began to assemble the Jedi together as Anath gathered Mara into his arms and carried her out of the garden.

Chapter Nineteen: Alliance

The limousine pulled to a stop on the lowest level of the underground parking lot.  The garage was completely empty save for one lone figure standing next to the doors of a turbolift.

"Is that your contact?" the driver asked.  Amil Aajulon leaned forward in his seat, peering through the tinted windows.  "Yes," he said, not quite succeeding in keeping all the anxiety out of his voice.

The driver picked up on his unease. "Are you sure about this?  The whole set-up seems kind of creepy."

Irritation overrode his nervousness, and Aajulon snapped, "This individual insisted on the utmost discretion.  Now wait here until I return."  He opened the door and slid out of the limo, slamming the door shut again before the driver could make another suspicious comment.  Aajulon was nervous enough about this interview without his driver's paranoia.  _My life is certainly not in any danger, he thought.  __As for my career... we shall see._

His footsteps echoed like blastbolts through the empty garage until he stood before his contact, a young, well dressed man.  He wore no crest, so Aajulon assumed he was not himself a Baron.  The man pressed his palm against the turbolift's lock, and the doors slid open.  "This way, sir," he gestured.

Aajulon stepped into the lift, followed by his young guide.  The doors slid closed again, and the lift began silently and subtly to move -- but not upward.  The faintest of g-forces indicated they were moving to the right.  _So that's how we will enter the Korust Building from a parking garage several blocks away._

Sure enough, the lift soon slowed to a stop before moving off again, this time straight up to the waiting Barons.  The penthouse of the Korust Building, formerly a sort of clubroom where the Barons could relax in the days of their rule, was now their meeting place as they plotted their return to power, a return which Aajulon would give them.

A cold finger of unease slid up Aajulon's spine as he asked himself yet again whether he were doing the right thing.  Of course he would not be handing the keys of power over to them.  He intended to forge an alliance, to hold them to his own agenda, as Akeeno had done when she had persuaded him to become her running mate, an arrangement sealed not so much by ideology as convenience.  He would only go forward with an alliance if they agreed to support him and his plans for the government.  Certainly he would have to make some concessions, but he would not give in to their demands.  They would serve him, not the other way around.

He hoped.

The turbolift gently coasted to a stop, and the doors opened onto a simple hallway, the walls panelled in the unique and expensive red wood of the taluba tree.  The walls glowed warmly in the light from the sconces, and despite his best efforts to remain neutral Aajulon marvelled at the beauty of it.

His guide moved into the hallway, his footsteps completely muffled by the thick green carpet.  Aajulon followed at his own pace, refusing to be rushed.  The guide placed his palm against another sensor, and two large double doors slid open, admitting Aajulon into the Korust penthouse.

At one end of the room stood a large table, around which were seated some twenty or so of the Barons.  One of them, a heavyset older woman, stood and greeted him.  "Welcome, Your Excellency.  Please do have a seat."  She gestured to one of the padded, nerf hide chairs.

His guide stepped forward to pull out the chair for him, and Aajulon seated himself.  Janiss Tildin was the name of the Baron.  Aajulon had last seen her when he and Akeeno were inaugurated into office.  Her displeasure at the time had been evident, so he was shocked to hear her acknowledge his position with the use of the honorific.  "I thank you for agreeing to see me," he began.

Tildin fingered the heavy gold chain which bore her family crest.  "I must admit that we were surprised by your desire to see us.  We are curious to hear what your business with us might be."

Aajulon glanced quickly around the table until he spied Baron Marwan.  Why wasn't she doing the talking?  Not that he had been looking forward to negotiating with her.  The truth was Marwan frightened him, as she frightened all commoners on Pamylasia, embodying as she did the entire system of oppression which had kept the Barons in power so long.  But if she preferred to let Tildin do the negotiating, Aajulon would take advantage of it.

"As you know," he began, "Antiradu Akeeno has announced his intention to run for President.  The PPP has not yet named him as their candidate, but it is likely they will.  I have great respect for him as a man, but I do not believe he is up to the task."  He paused, but the Barons merely waited for him to continue, their faces mildly interested but not curious.

"If the PPP selects him as their candidate, than I will return to the Liberty Party and run for the office myself.  I fear, however, that the vote of many people will be swayed by the sentimental power of Dimi's widower.  My chances of winning will depend heavily on my running mate."  Again he stopped, hoping they would pick up on his cue.

But it was not to be.  When Aajulon remained silent, Tildin prompted, "And why should we have the slightest interest in your running mate?"

"In that first election, Dimi knew that the only way we could go forward as a planet was if we did so together.  So she invited me as chair of the Liberty Party to join her.  It was the right decision, then.  It showed that we as a people are stronger and more united than any political party.  I still believe in that strategy, and I still believe that the future belongs to all of Pamylasia's people.  It was necessary in the first term for the Barons not to be part of the government so that we could make a clean break with the past.  But I believe now is the time to heal all the divisions which have separated us."  Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself.  "I want to invite you to join me in my candidacy."

If his offer surprised them, they hid it well.  Tildin gave Marwan a smug look, then raised her eyebrows at Aajulon.  "Do you mean to say you want a Baron as your running mate?"

Aajulon nodded.  "Yes."

"You might gain the vote of the Barons, but you would surely lose everyone else's vote, and how would that serve our purposes?"

Aajulon had been so certain they would jump at the chance to regain power, he had not considered the possibility they might turn him down.  "I thought you would be interested in becoming part of the government."

"Oh, we are interested," Tildin assured him.  "But not in offering a candidate for Vice President.  There are other ways we may participate in the government after all."

"What do you propose?"

Tildin leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table.  "First, I think you should understand our continuing influence.  If we were to support you, we can guarantee you fifteen percent of the vote.  If you select your running mate from the Liberty Party or one of the more moderate parties, we could probably bring you an additional twenty percent.  As Akeeno's hand-picked Vice President, you should bring quite a number of voters of your own, and the rest is strategy.  We cannot guarantee that you'll win, but we can aid you considerably."

Aajulon strokes the soft armrests of his chair, wishing his nerves were as smooth as the leather.  "I do appreciate that."

"The question remains then, what is our support worth to you?  If you win, we would want some guarantee of return."

"Naturally.  What do you want?"

"Several positions in your cabinet.  Minister of Finance, for example, and one or two others."

Aajulon gulped.  "Minister of Finance?  That might be difficult."

"How?" Tildin rebutted coolly.  "These are appointed positions.  You make the decisions yourself.  There are certain interests which we must protect.  For example, land reform and nationalization: these were key issues for Akeeno.  Naturally, we are not in favor."

Aajulon found his strength again.  "I cannot stop either land reform or nationalization.  They will happen."

Tildin hesitated, displeased, before recovering.  "Yes, undoubtedly they will.  But how far will they go?  Surely not all land and industry must be taken from us.  A more moderate position might be found."

Feeling as if he had won a victory, Aajulon conceded, "Certainly."

Tildin nodded amiably.  "We simply want to be in a position where we can influence policy, not dictate it.  You would be President, after all.  Now all our cards are on the table, Your Excellency.  Is there room for discussion, or are you ready to leave?"

"I think," said Aajulon, sinking back into his plush chair, "that we have much to discuss."


	7. Chapters 20-21

Chapter Twenty: Legacy

Mara slept until late that evening.  Lanari was keeping watch by her bed, but Mara refused to discuss anything.  Being naturally taciturn herself, this contented Lanari, but not another of the Masters.  Faruccio soon arrived.  Trained as a counselor, he wanted to get Mara to talk, but she only turned her face to the wall and remained silent.  As eager as he was to help, Faruccio soon recognized Mara's need to be alone, and he departed.

She spent the rest of the next day in the same manner, three or four hours of sleep separated by brief periods of silent wakefulness.  Mara had never been inclined to self-pitying behavior, but she seemed to have lost the will to fight, to do, even to be.  Sleep provided a haven of oblivion where she could escape the unbearable reality her life had become.

Luke never came to visit her while she was awake, and if he came while she slept he left no message.  Far from disturbing Mara, Luke's absence offered her some comfort.  Early on in their marriage Luke had learned that Mara preferred to fight her own battles on her own terms.  When something bothered her Luke just kept out of the way.  In gratitude for this respect for her privacy, Mara had promised that she would always return to Luke and patch things up afterward.  Never before, however, had their arrangement been so severely tested.

As on Myrmidon, Mara had signaled her need for space with the cruelest of words.  What confused Mara was that while every word, every thought, every feeling was true, somehow there was a greater truth which contradicted the words.  Did Luke understand that?  Had he understood that her rejection on Myrmidon had really been anger at their captors for forcing Luke into a situation that was bound to destroy him?  Did he understand now that her declaration that he was a curse really meant that she loved him more than she could bear?

Mara had always taken for granted that Luke would understand the truth behind her occasional withdrawals.  He had never resented them anyway.  But now Mara realized how absurd and hurtful her actions were.  Now more than ever Luke needed her.  Now more than ever, especially since she might lose him forever, she needed him.  Yet she could only lash out at him, cut herself off from him, waste precious time she might spend with him, lying instead alone on a bed in the infirmary.  Why?  And yet how could she reach out to comfort him when the storm of emotion raging in her heart threatened to choke the very life out of her?  So she retreated into sleep.

At one point Mara woke to find Leia sitting next to her bed.  She had no idea what time it was, or even what day of the week.  She only knew it was not time for her to speak.  When she saw Leia she turned her face to the wall, as she had done to all her other visitors.

For several minutes Leia, like Lanari, was content to endure Mara's silence.  Mara respected Leia, but she secretly feared that she didn't live up to Leia's excruciating standards for her brother.  She distrusted all Leia's expressions of welcome and sisterly love as diplomatic doubletalk, and the two had not grown particularly close since Luke and Mara's wedding.  Mara prayed Leia would just go away.

But Leia would not give in so easily.  Nor would she remain silent.  When she at last spoke, her words were gentle and quiet, so quiet that Mara found herself straining to listen.  "I know what it's like to lose your whole world, to not be able to face the future, and to blame yourself for the loss.  In fact," Leia's voice tinged with a lighter note, though not of levity, "what you're going through now has a name.  Psychologists call it 'the Organa Syndrome.'  It's an unusual distinction, to have a psychological trauma named after you."

Mara absorbed these words, letting them sink through her defenses.  No one ever used Alderaan as a metaphor for their own pain around Leia.  No trauma could compare to the loss of one's entire homeworld.  For Leia now to compare Mara's impending loss to that of Alderaan was not the tactic of a diplomat but a rare and heartfelt expression of empathy.  Mara recognized it, and she accepted the gift as it was offered.  She had never discussed Alderaan with Leia, but now she responded to the invitation.  Perhaps Leia could help her after all.

"How did you survive it?"  Mara asked.

Mara heard the movement of Leia's shoulders as she shrugged.  "We were in the middle of a war.  I was too busy to think about it much.  You can't meditate on much of anything when you're constantly running for your life.  And when my life finally slowed down a bit," _not, she reflected, __that it ever had slowed down that much, "by that time the pain had faded enough to become bearable.  Not forgotten, never absent, but ... endurable."_

Mara could feel the tension curling again in her stomach, and she spoke more harshly than she meant to, "So, what, I'm supposed to go out and wage a war against someone?"  But her anger faded off as soon as she spoke, and more pensively she reflected, "That's the oddest thing, though.  In the old days I would have responded with a battle plan, but now ... I don't want to fight anyone.  I don't blame anyone -- Akeeno, the Pamylasians, anyone.  We all just seem to be victims here.  The Pamylasians are right to be outraged and to burn Luke in effigy.  He killed their President.  They have every reason to execute him."  There was no resentment in her heart, only sadness.  "So justice will be served, and he will die.  And my heart will die with him."

Leia steeled herself against Mara's grief, for fear it would unleash her own.  She couldn't imagine that any court in the galaxy would actually order Luke's execution, but Pamylasia had been isolated from the galactic scene for decades.  How could they not demand the life of the man who killed their President?  Unthinkable, yet all too probable.

"How can I replace him?"  Mara resumed speaking, her voice flat and emotionless.  "When the Emperor died, I replaced him with hate -- hatred for Luke.  It wasn't that hard to lose the Emperor, but then I'd never loved him.  It was the power I cared about.  But with Luke it's all about powerlessness: surrender, self-giving, all the things the Emperor told me were weaknesses.  With Luke they are strengths.  I gave up everything to marry Luke, all my beliefs about independence, strength, power, and I was glad to do it, to learn a new lesson.  But now how do I go on without him?  What will replace my love for him?"  She let out a short laugh.  "Another husband?"

Leia's mouth twisted in a smile.  "They don't make too many like him," she conceded.

Mara turned over on the bed so she could face Leia.  Her eyes burning, she asked, "What if Han died?  How would you survive it?"

Suppressing a shudder, Leia looked away.  How often had she asked herself that question?  With a sigh, she confessed, "I'm not really in the same situation.  After all, Han and I have children.  Granted, children are no substitute for a husband, but they are living legacy of our love.  If Han died I would certainly miss him, but he would live on in the children.  At least I would have that."

Mara's gaze turned inward, and Leia knew she had hit a sore spot with her.  Mara picked absently at some lint on the bedcovers before the words dragged themselves out of her, a reluctant confession.  "Luke always wanted kids, but I wasn't ready."

An unexpected surge of resentment coursed through Leia.  Luke had wanted children as long as Leia had known him, although he seldom said anything about it.  As an orphan, and with his complicated relationship with their father, something which Leia could never completely understand, Luke felt an irresistible need to be a father, something that went beyond the biological desire to pass on one's genes.  While he relished being an uncle, Leia knew he secretly envied her and Han's role as parents.  It had taken Luke so long to find someone to marry, why did it have to be one of the least maternal women Leia could think of?  Because of Mara, Luke would die childless.

Violently, Leia seized hold of that line of thought and cast it out of her mind.  She wasn't being fair to Mara, or even Luke, for that matter.  They had not been married a year yet.  Who expects to have children so soon?  There were other aspects of love.  Gently, Leia suggested, "You have your own legacy with Luke, even without children.  Think about what that legacy is: the Jedi, the Academy..."

Shaking her head against the pillow, Mara demurred, "No, the Academy is Luke's legacy not mine."  She sighed, smoothing the bedcovers with her palms, her hands coming to rest unconsciously on her womb.  "It's too soon.  We haven't been married long enough to have the kind of legacy you mean."  With a resentful snort she said, "Our legacy is ten fucking years of indecision before we finally 'fess up and marry.  Ten years we could have ...."  She shook her head angrily against the pillow.  "We finally get married, and now it's too late.  If only we'd had a child…," she trailed off.

"Still, you and Luke have been friends for ten years, that's something.  You do have a legacy with Luke, you need only to think of it."

"Spare me the platitudes, Leia," Mara rebuked.  "It demeans us both.  You were actually saying things before.  If you can't say anything real now, then just be quiet."

Stung, Leia pursed her lips together, even though in her heart of hearts she knew Mara was right.  As a diplomat, she knew how to find words for every occasion.  But as a human being, she knew some occasions transcended words.  This was one of those occasions.  Perhaps that was why all of them were struggling so hard right now.

Mara turned back toward the wall.  "Thank you for coming by, Leia.  I really do appreciate it, but I'm tired.  I'm going to take a nap now."

She was being dismissed.  Leia hated that.  "Do you have anything you'd like me to tell Luke?" she asked, though it was more to chide Mara than out of any real concern to act as messenger.

To Leia's dark pleasure, Mara's back stiffened.  "No."

Leia stood, simultaneously despising herself for her cattiness, and desiring to punish Mara further.  After all, wasn't Luke himself now languishing in a deep depression mirroring Mara's own?  Why was Mara so selfish and hurtful toward him?  Leia struggled to calm herself down, to leave Mara with a comforting word, but the conflict within her own feelings only grew.  At last she settled for, "I'll see you again later, Mara.  Rest well."  Then with one last look at Mara's cold back, Leia left the room.

*****

Mara tried to rest, but sleep eluded her.  Her mind worked furiously, chewing over what Leia had said, and the idea grew and grew in her brain until she could not resist it.  A child!  There was still time.  The trial was still several weeks away, and who knew how long it would last.  She could still become pregnant.

Mara buried her face in her pillow, confused by what she was contemplating.  How would having a child Luke might never see help him?  Surely these were all the wrong reasons to have children, a selfish desire to hang on to a loved one who had been lost.  Parenthood should be more altruistic.

And who was Mara to become a mother?  She of all people was ill prepared for the role.  She had been far too young when the Emperor took her from her own family.  She could not even remember them.  How could she in all good conscience inflict herself upon any child as a single mother?

Yet despite all these and many other reasonable objections, the thought of having a child gave Mara the first stirring of hope since the whole ordeal began.  If Luke could die knowing Mara carried the child he had always wanted, perhaps it could help atone for her inability to save him.  And if she could no longer have Luke to love, she could at least love his child.

With this desperate plan now inextricably lodged in her brain, Mara at last had a course of action to take.  She rose from the bed and dressed quickly, returning to their apartment without stopping along the way.

When she entered their quarters, Luke was not in the living room.  She briefly feared that he might not be at home.  She didn't want to have to track him down if he was with friends, or Han and Leia, even though he had every right to put her on hold as she had done to him so many times lately.

She went to the bedroom and pushed opened the door.  Luke lay asleep on the bed, stretched out on top of the covers.  She approached the bed quietly and eased herself down next to him, but he did not wake up.  Asleep, he appeared relaxed and peaceful, all signs of stress erased from his face.  She curled up next to him on the bed and savored the opportunity to study his face, his dimpled chin, the faint scars outlining his right eye, the long sandy eyelashes curled against his cheeks, and that ever unruly hair of his falling across his brow.  She reached out and smoothed the locks off his face with a touch so feather light he still did not wake.  She traced a finger along his eyebrow, down over the scar along his eye and across his cheek to tickle his dimple.  He stirred slightly, and as she continued to stroke his face, he at last roused from his deep sleep.  She smiled as his blue eyes blinked open to rest upon her.

For a long moment he said nothing, giving himself time to come fully awake and to absorb Mara's sudden presence near him.  He began, " Mara, you are right about everything you said.  I'm so sorry."

She hushed him, pressing her fingertip against his lips.  "No more of that," she cooed.  "We can't keep blaming ourselves or each other for this.  If you had acted in any other way you wouldn't be you.  I knew you were a sentimental softie when I married you," she smiled.

"But --."

"No.  No more blame, no more apologies, no more abandoning you.  Let's just ... move on."

Luke's eyes grew moist, but he refused to let the tears fall.  He drew Mara into a tight embrace, nestling his face into her neck.  He squeezed her almost painfully hard, but she knew she held him just as tightly. _ I want to hug him hard enough to absorb him into my body, Mara thought.  __I want him to become part of me._

She shifted in his arms, and he released her enough to let her pull back so they were again face to face, foreheads touching.

"I realize now is really not the time," Mara began, "and I know I'm going to say this all wrong...."

Luke nudged her.  "No apologies, remember?"

Nodding, Mara took a deep breath and held it for several seconds before slowly exhaling.  When she had calmed herself, she resumed, "Leia came to visit me earlier, and something she said got me thinking."  Her voice wavered, both with the intensity of her need and with her uncertainty at how it would be received.  "She was talking about how her children are a legacy of the love she shares with Han, and I thought maybe -- I mean I know this isn't a good time, but maybe we could ...."  

She couldn't bring herself to give voice to her desire, but to her joy Luke again seized her in an embrace, whispering, "It's the perfect time.  But is this really what you want?  Are you ready?"

Pressing her face into his shoulder, she stammered, "Yes.  I mean, no, I'm not ready, but when will I ever be?  I do want it.  I want most for you to be here, but if not ... if we had a child ....  But is it what you want?"

He held her tighter.  "Yes.  But Mara what if it doesn't happen?  What if there's something wrong?  I mean, we're both getting along in years.  Sometimes it takes time, and any number of things could go wrong.  If you don't get pregnant, could you handle the disappointment?"

For some reason his anxieties only calmed her down.  She pulled back from him again and wiped away her drying tears.  "I know, and I'll deal with that if it happens.  Meanwhile it will give me something to hope for."  She favored him with a rakish grin.  "And you know how I always need a project."

His eyebrows arched.  "A project?  You make it sound like making babies is hard work."

"I didn't say it wouldn't be a fun project."

He laughed, and Mara again marvelled at how the the sound lifted her spirits.  "Well, there's no time like the present.  What say we get started?"  

  
Chapter Twenty-one: Judgment 

News of Mara and Luke's reconciliation was greeted with tremendous relief by the residents of the Jedi Temple.  Mara was rather renowned for her stoicism, and everyone had long been accustomed to Luke's calm steadiness, so to see the two of them in such an acute state of psychological trauma left everyone troubled and frightened.  No one knew how to counsel Luke Skywalker, and no one would dare try to counsel Mara Jade, so they felt guiltily relieved when it appeared they might pull through on their own.

The Jedi Council had begun to consider canceling the examination altogether in light of the toll it was taking on Mara and Luke, but as the two of them recovered, the Council decided to proceed.  The day after Luke and Mara's reconciliation, the Council met in their chamber to discuss all they had heard.

As the Masters settled into their chairs, Anath said, "We have had quite some time now to consider what Luke has told us, as well as what Corran and others have voiced at the examination.  We may find we are not ready to reach a decision, but it seems appropriate now to discuss the situation and how we all view it."  He paused.  "Would anyone like to begin?"

For several long minutes, no one spoke.  Anath looked around the circle, noticing that no one returned his gaze.  Each pair of eyes was fixed on the ceiling, out the window, on the floor -- anywhere but at the faces of their fellows.  Anath made the circuit three times before Lanari Barusch finally looked up.  Her voice rang out in the quiet chamber.  "It's clear to me that Master Luke was not motivated by the dark side.  No matter what any of us would have done -- and I dare say we would have done different things for as many different reasons as there are people in this room -- Master Luke did not act out of evil.  He did not act out of anger, revenge, even selfishness, but rather out of a desire to protect Mara's life.  I cannot fault that."

Master Faruccio shook his head slowly.  "He did not act out of anger?  Did you not hear the anger in his voice when he spoke of protecting Mara?  There was a defiance in him that is not appropriate for a Jedi."

Idi Athar quickly spoke in defense of Luke.  "Surely a little anger is understandable.  After all he was coerced into an impossible situation, one that will undoubtedly ruin his life.  Just because he was defensive in the examination does not mean he acted out of anger when he killed Akeeno.  Indeed, when he spoke of that it was with great sorrow."

"True," Faruccio agreed cautiously.  "But I still find his own admission that he acted immorally to be disturbing."

Lanari demanded, "Do you want him to say he felt justified, that what he did was right?  Surely not!  It was a terribly ambiguous situation, and I don't think there was a right response."  

Lanari's statement generated a palpable unease among those gathered in the room.  Amidst a flurry of murmurs, Master Garamond protested in disbelief, "Don't you?  Are you telling me that in his situation you would also have killed Akeeno?"

The questioned troubled Lanari, and she backed down, her eyes clouded.  They had all asked themselves that question many times over the past few days, and Lanari took a moment to search her soul before answering.  "I don't know," she confessed.  "If Marquet were threatened...."  She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut against such an unimaginable loss.  Abruptly she shook her head.  "But he isn't a Jedi.  One could argue that I would be defending a civilian.  I like to think I would protect Akeeno, but like Luke I feel loyalty to the people I know.  I don't know that I could live with Marquet's death."  She hesitated again, then shrugged helplessly.  "I just don't know."

Idi turned to Garamond, her eyes holding curiosity and a challenge.  "What would you do?"

Garamond sat up straight, his jaw clenched.  "I would protect Akeeno," he stated with finality.  "That is my duty."  Then his posture softened, and he was forced to admit, "But then, I am not married."

Idi continued, "All right, then, what if it was Master Luke whose life was held in the balance against Akeeno's?"

"Master Luke would understand.  He would want to protect Akeeno.  Did he not say so in the examination?"

Idi turned her question on herself, and mused aloud, "If it were Master Luke, I think I would protect Akeeno."  She hesitated.  "I _think.  But if I were married, or if it were my child who was threatened....  My child I think I would protect."_

His expression troubled, Garamond turned to the acting Master.  "And you, Master Anath?"

Anath spread his hands, answering simply, "I am a pacifist.  I cannot take life."

"Even if it were your wife or children at stake?"  Idi demanded.  She had never really understood Anath's beliefs.  "Do you value your principle above their lives?"

"It's not so much a principle as it is who I am, how I was raised," Anath explained.  "Pacifism is not merely an intellectual ideal to me.  It is a way of life, central to my very identity.  If I were to save the lives of my family at such a price, it would mean the severing of my very relationship with them.  In killing someone, I would in a very real sense cease to be who I am, as a person, as a Jedi, and as the husband and father of my family.  Perhaps it is the same way for Luke.  Since he is not a pacifist, he has the option, some would even say the obligation, to kill in defense of his loved ones.  In the examination he said that he could not love strangers if he could not love his friends.  If he were to protect Akeeno by sacrificing Mara, it would destroy his relationship with Akeeno.  It would destroy who he is as much as killing someone would destroy me."

With a questioning glance around the circle, Garamond asked, "What about the rest of you?"

But Hamsa Jerat had had enough.  "We can play these guessing games forever, but ultimately they serve no purpose.  The Jedi way is a way, a code, not a series of laws or rules.  We do not believe there are right answers, only faithful ones.  The question is: was Luke faithful?"  

The Masters considered her words carefully, some more in agreement, some less.  At last Faruccio responded, "He was faithful to his wife, perhaps.  But was he faithful to Akeeno?  To the people of Pamylasia?  To the Jedi?  I'm not so sure.  Again we must consider the question of the greater good, which Master Luke so blithely dismissed."

"But he has a point," interjected Lanari.  "How do we know for certain what the greater good is?  People would certainly have said that killing Vader would have been the greatest good.  But when Luke refused the obvious answer he opened the door not only for Vader's redemption, but for the Emperor's death and the downfall of the Empire in a way no one, not even Luke, could have predicted.  Who is to say that if Akeeno had lived she might not have become a tyrant?  Or the people might have grown dependent on her, or any number of unknown futures.  But now perhaps the door has been opened for someone even greater than Akeeno to come forth."

Idi continued Lanari's argument, "And Mara's own destiny may hold a still greater potential which would have been thwarted had she died.  I agree, the notion of a greater good has always been somewhat disturbing to me.  Not the concept itself, but the idea that we know what it is.  None of us can see the future with absolute certainty.  Perhaps our claim to know the greater good is itself a form of dark side arrogance which sets ourselves up as the caretakers of the entire galaxy.  I'm not sure the people of the galaxy would want us in such a role."

Slowly, Anath said, "You have a good point.  The concept of a greater good has some value, but it can also be a dangerous form of arrogance."  He paused, looking around the room.  "So with that ethical dilemma discredited, we are basically back to the relative value of two individuals, Akeeno versus Mara."

Faruccio cautioned, "I'm not so sure that the greater good should be dismissed that easily, but I accede the point.  However I disagree that we are not back to Akeeno versus Mara.  Rather we are back to whether Master Luke acted from the dark side or not.  I would be inclined to say he did not, despite the fact that I would have acted differently, except that Master Luke himself felt he acted from the dark side.  Certainly there are enough ethical systems in the galaxy that what is ethical for some is unethical for others.  That is why a Jedi must be faithful above all to her or his own understanding of the code and her relationship to the force.  If Master Luke believes he acted evilly, then perhaps he did, regardless of what we all think."

For a long time no one spoke.  While motives and circumstances could be very difficult to determine and sort out, Luke's straightforward confession that what he had done was wrong could not be ignored.  To some extent, regardless of whether anyone agreed with Luke's own assessment of his situation, did not Luke's self-perception of evil itself signify the dark side?  Even if one's motives are pure, the perception of evil could end up leading one down the dark path.

When several minutes had passed and still no one showed any sign of breaking the silence, Anath at last resumed the conversation that they were all so reluctant to have.  "Your observation is indeed troublesome, Faruccio.  But we must remember that even the Jedi are not all-powerful.  Master Luke has been under tremendous stress.  All these factors would make it difficult for him to view his actions in a calm, centered manner.  If he could find clarity, perhaps he would understand his own motivations better."

"But a Jedi should be able to find the calm under even the most trying of circumstances," Faruccio averred.

"Should, perhaps," Anath smiled ruefully, "but even we are fallible."

Lanari added, "And Master Luke has always been very hard on himself concerning what he perceives as his failures."

Several of the Masters nodded, but the discussion again stalled.  At last Anath asked "So where are we now?"

After another silence, Garamond spoke up.  "I hear what you all are saying, and I take your words very seriously.  But I still cannot accept the idea that a Jedi Master -- that any Jedi -- would consent to murder someone like Akeeno."

Hoping her thoughts would shed more light on the dilemma, rather than muddying an already complicated situation, Hamsa said, "Perhaps it would be helpful to consider if not the greater good, than the greater context.  Master Luke did not act in a vacuum.  Remember, he was coerced.  There is a larger scheme at work here.  Who wanted Akeeno dead, and why did they choose Luke to coerce in the manner they did?  As disturbing as it may be for us to believe that a Jedi is not immune to manipulation, perhaps there is a lesson of humility for us, that even we can be caught in circumstances beyond our control.  As Master Anath said, we are not infallible.  Properly equipped and motivated, even the Force-blind may overcome us."  

Still Garamond disagreed.  "Certainly we must be humble, but Luke's situation could set a dangerous precedent.  If we excuse Master Luke now,  we are in effect saying that any criminal is free to manipulate and exploit the Jedi for their own purposes."  

A trifle impatiently Hamsa accused, "Denial of our weakness is perhaps the greatest weakness of all.  You're awfully sure of yourself, Garamond.  Who are you and I to pass judgment when we come from those Jedi who let our fears of Palpatine drive us underground when the entire galaxy stood in need of our protection?  Surely then we were manipulated into abrogating our responsibility.  There are Old Order Jedi who even now believe that Luke has let himself be contaminated by his involvement with the galaxy.  But that is always the risk we take, that we might be manipulated into using our power for the dark purpose of others.  That is the greater context, that while Master Luke was the tool, his was not the will to have Akeeno murdered."

"But those others are not under examination here," Anath observed.

"No," Hamsa concurred, "but we should not forget them in Luke's examination.  The Republic's citizens are protected from torture by the Treaty on Sapient Rights and the Convention against Torture.  Do we deny this same right to Luke because he is a Jedi?"

"Of course not," Garamond said.

"Then why are we holding him responsible for his torturers' actions?" Hamsa asked.

Again no one spoke.  It seemed Luke's situation was entirely without precedent in the New Order's experience.  There were simply far too many complicated and ambivalent factors to be weighed in.  How could they possibly untangle this knot?

With the conversation stalled, Anath checked in, "Okay, where are we now?"

Still the Masters remain silent.  No one knew how to answer him.

At last, Lanari spoke out, with more certainty than anyone had demonstrated in a while.  "Master Luke did not act on the dark side," she pronounced firmly.  "Nor was his conduct unworthy of a Jedi.  While Akeeno's murder is a heinous crime, he acted under the influence of torture, placed in a situation where his powers were used against his will, a situation any of us could find ourselves in."  

Slowly, hesitantly, but with a gradually increasing conviction, heads around the circle began to nod.  But not all of them

Anath tilted his head toward Garamond.  "And you?"

Garamond rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair, his hands clasped together in front of him.  He bowed his head, deep in exploration of his own soul.  When he at last looked up, his earlier certainty had evaporated, replaced with introspection.  "Hamsa is right.  The Old Order protected ourselves by not getting involved.  Master Luke risks involvement, and that includes the risk of being manipulated by others.  I still don't know that I would have acted the same way, but I certainly feel that I have no right to pass judgment on him."

Anath nodded, filled with compassion at a confession which must surely be difficult for Garamond.  Then his gaze settled on Faruccio, his eyebrows raised in inquiry.

Faruccio nodded.  "Hamsa has spoken wisely.  I concur with her insight, but I am still concerned about Master Luke's own ambivalence, his belief that he acted from the dark side.  He needs to reflect upon this entire experience and explore his own motivations.  He must face all that was inside him during this time.  Only then will I believe that he has faced his own darkness and overcome it."

_Yes, Anath thought, __but when will Luke have the chance for that kind of reflection?  Aloud he said, "Anyone else?"_

One by one, the Masters expressed their agreement.  Anath sat back in his chair, releasing his pent-up tension in one long slow breath.  "Masters, I thank you for your thoughts and wisdom in this very difficult matter.  We all still have much to explore, not only with Luke but in our own souls.  No examination ever truly ends, but we have reached a judgment.  May Luke, and all of us, Jedi or not, see the wisdom of it, and be the better for this discussion."  


	8. Chapters 22-24

Author's note:  Two-thirds down, one-third to go!  In addition to the melodrama, we will also be seeing some action in the next part, lightsabers, pirates, space battles and so forth.  Not with Luke, alas, but it should be fun anyway.  Heartfelt thanks to my reviewers for their kind, ego-inflating comments! Part Three Chapter Twenty-two: The Stage Is Set 

Two months after he had left Pamylasia, Luke Skywalker returned to face his trial, but in that interval much had changed.  While the Jedi Council's pronouncement had initially sparked outrage and disbelief throughout the galaxy, in time it prompted many people to ask questions about who exactly was behind Akeeno's murder.  Attention slowly shifted away from Luke's guilt to this deeper mystery, and with the shift came finally a public show of support.  Whereas before the examination only a handful of people had expressed any public support for Luke at all, after the trial Luke's people again returned to their hero.  Donations began to pour into the Jedi Academy, including several extremely generous gifts, enabling Luke to breathe a sigh of relief.  His lawyers' fees were rapidly emptying Leia's bank account, and while she was more than willing to go bankrupt on her brother's behalf, Luke hated to see any more lives ruined because of him.  Anath had come to him and privately offered the use of funds from the Jedi's reserves, but Luke refused, pointing out that such a move would set a dangerous precedent which might compromise the Jedi's integrity.  Several of his lawyers had quietly agreed to charge far below their normal rate, but despite their generosity the fees ran high, and with a trial that could last months, the final cost would be higher still.

Furthermore, Luke encountered the same problem of securing housing on Pamylasia as he had before.  No one wanted Akeeno's murderer as a tenant.  After much searching, a place was found shortly before Luke was scheduled to return.  Located in Endirion, it was a large estate that used to belong to one of the Barons.  It had been confiscated by the government, which agreed to rent it to Luke and his entourage, including his phalanx of lawyers; ten Republic Security Guards, four of whom were Jedi in disguise sent to protect Luke from any assassination attempts; Anath Pipir, formally representing the Jedi; Han, Chewbacca, C-3PO and R2-D2, who considered themselves to be Luke's most capable bodyguards; and finally Mara and Luke himself.

As much as Leia wanted to be with her brother, she could not abandon her duties as President of the Republic.  She had briefly considered stepping down from her position, and indeed a few voices in the Senate called for her to do so, but such a move would not help Luke.  Instead it was decided that she would join the family on Pamylasia when the closing arguments would be made and remain with them until the verdict was announced.  In the meantime, she would call them every single day, adding not insignificantly to the mounting expenses.

The ones who protested most strongly at being left behind were Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin.  As much as the family tried to shield them from the comments and diatribes of the press, the children knew full well that Luke not only faced a verdict of guilty, but could very likely receive the death sentence.  They were terrified of losing their uncle and were inconsolable at being apart form him during what they feared might be his final days.  The children's anguish only added to the grief everyone felt, and in the end the children were almost granted their wish.  But Luke finally pointed out to them that even if they accompanied him to Pamylasia, they would not be able to spend much time with him as he would be at the trial all day and conferring with the lawyers much of the rest of the time.  Even so, they were not convinced until Luke charged them to stay and take care of their mother, who would be unable to be with him.  This appeal on Leia's behalf finally won the day, but it did not make the farewell any easier.

Following a brief respite after the Jedi examination, most of Luke's time was spent with the lawyers.  As much free time as he had was spent with his family and his fellow Jedi. On his departure from Coruscant, the Jedi presented him with a special book.  Every single one of them had written up the story of how they had first met Luke.  It seemed to them an appropriate way to remind Luke who he was and to keep his spirits up.  Luke would read it many times during the coming months.  As for the children, they began writing letters to Luke before he had even left home.

When Luke and his entourage arrived on Pamylasia to take up residence in their new home, they found a different Pamylasia than the one they had left before.  Hatred for Luke still prevailed, but it was less intense, distracted as they were by the coming election, in which Radu Akeeno and Amil Aajulon were the lead contenders, and by the question of who had been behind Akeeno's murder.  Most people still held Luke responsible for his role, but they now wanted all the guilty parties to be identified and brought to justice.

Finally, Luke himself had changed.  Following the judgment of the Council, he had spent long hours in meditation on his actions. He had begun to see how his actions did indeed reflect a morality and ethic which could be discerned throughout his life.  He recognized that his reasons might not be held as legitimate by the rest of the galaxy, or more importantly the Pamylasian court, and he accepted whatever verdict they might render, or so he told himself.  In the past two months he had made peace with himself, he had made peace with Mara, and now he planned to do what he could to make peace with those he had most wronged, the people of Pamylasia.  He knew full well that any apology or attempt at reconciliation he might make would likely be rebuffed by the Pamylasians, and he felt he deserved no less.  But his conscience demanded he make the offer.  He would begin by visiting Dimishaneer Akeeno's grave, but to do that he would have to seek permission from Akeeno's widower.  

He wrote a carefully crafted letter in which he declared his longstanding admiration for Akeeno and his desire to pay his respects.  He and Mara both requested permission to visit Akeeno's grave.  It would not be a publicity stunt.  They desired no press to be present and preferred to keep their visit a secret.  They were even willing to visit in the middle of the night if necessary.  They simply wanted to honor a good woman who had died a martyr to freedom.

For several days Luke heard nothing.  Then at last a reply came in the form of a letter from Radu Akeeno himself:

Sir,

I received your letter with great surprise, and have spent some time considering your request.  You must understand that the situation is highly unconventional, and I am skeptical of your motives.  I have in fact many reservations about what such a visit might mean for my people, for you, and for myself.  I therefore cannot grant you permission to visit my wife's grave at this time, as the matter requires further consideration.

I have therefore decided to discuss this matter with you personally.  My secretary will arrange a time at your convenience.

                                                            Antiradu Akeeno

  
Chapter Twenty-three: On the Trail 

"There's no place like home," Talon Karrde sighed as he and Shada walked down the street of Hyllyard City.

"I beg your pardon?" Shada queried.

"I used to live here.  Not in Hyllyard City: I had a base in the forest.  My main audience room was built around an enormous tree. It gave the base a rather mythic quality I quite enjoyed."

Shada squinted, looking around the square in mild disgust, and simultaneously noting where their crew had stationed themselves discreetly nearby.  "It doesn't look like much," she pronounced.

"Naturally, it's gone downhill since I left."

Looking askance at him, Shada asked, "Should we be concerned about the possibility you might be recognized?"

"Oh, that was quite a long time ago.  Besides," he gestured to his hair, "with my hair dyed this lovely shade of green, my own mother wouldn't recognize me.  Thank the stars it washes out."

Shada smirked, then glanced up the street.  "We're coming up on the place, and everyone is positioned."

"Thank you," Karrde returned, and with the next step they assumed the roles they would play in the impending drama.

When they reached their destination, a rather shoddy looking pawn shop, Karrde graciously held the door for Shada, then followed her into the cool, darkened building.  Shada heaved a long-suffering sigh and rubbed her forehead with one hand.  Stepping past her, Karrde approached a rather burly Mendian standing behind the counter.  "Good day, my friend," he greeted cordially.  "I have an appointment with the proprietor.  Is he in?"

The Mendian looked them over with bloodshot eyes.  "Name?" he grunted.

"Van Lees."

The Mendian cast a baleful look at Shada, who stood wearily blinking in the dim light, then unfolded his triple-jointed limbs and lumbered off through a curtained doorway.  Within moments he returned and gestured an opposable digit with a rather wicked-looking claw over his shoulder through the curtain before resuming his seat behind the counter.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Karrde seized Shada's elbow and led her ungracefully around the counter and through the curtain, where they found themselves in an even darker room.  A dark shape, possibly human, approached them and growled, "No weapons," and held out his hand.

"Of course not," Karrde agreed, divesting himself of two blasters, a stinger, and a vibroblade, which the guard locked in a box.

Gesturing at Shada, the guard asked, "What about her?"

"She's a biologist," Karrde said, with a note of disdain in his voice.  "She's armed only with field notes."

The guard shrugged and raised a handheld scanner in front of Shada, muttering, "You're gonna let _her write your life story?"  He passed the scanner over her body, and found nothing.  When he swept Karrde, the scanner emitted a warning buzz as it passed Karrde's left forearm._

"Sorry, I forgot about that one," Karrde apologized as he pulled a tiny blaster from its concealed holster under his sleeve.

"Whatever," the guard sneered as he locked it away.  When he was satisfied they were unarmed, he gestured for them to follow him.  They passed through a narrow corridor stacked high with boxes and loose equipment which kept tripping Shada up.  When Karrde reprimanded her for her clumsiness, she slurred, "Then why don't they turn on the light?"

"If you break anything, you pay for it," the guard warned.

The epithet with which Shada greeted this information was so colorful and unexpected Karrde almost laughed out loud.

The guard came to an abrupt stop and opened a door.  He gestured them in, and they found themselves in a rather gaudily decorated office.  Behind a desk that was far too large sat a Rodian, flanked by another Mendian and a rather moth-eaten Wookiee.

"The things one has to go through to meet with you, Beppo," Karrde dryly observed.

The Rodian rose, his nose twitching.  "I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Lees," he answered in sibilant Basic, "but such caution is what keeps me in business.  Please, take a seat."

Karrde graciously lowered himself into a pink-furred chair, while Shada plopped unsteadily into its mate.

Nodding at Shada, Beppo asked, "And who is this?"

"Dr. Newson Cray," Karrde introduced.  "She is a biologist and will... attend to the merchandise.  I must apologize for her.  She is a little deep into her cups."

"Hey," Shada protested, "I deliberately went easy last night in honor of the occasion."  Karrde raised his eyebrows in skepticism, and she asserted, "I am _not drunk."_

With a deep sigh of frustration, Karrde returned his attention to Beppo.  "I wonder if you might ask your associates to step outside?" he queried, gesturing at the guards.

"I assure you, Mr. Lees, they are entirely trustworthy."

"Of course they are," Karrde readily agreed, "but my employer insisted that this business be discussed in the strictest confidence, otherwise there will be no deal."

Beppo hesitated, then raised his hand to his associates in dismissal.  They silently glided out of the room.  "Are you satisfied?"

"This is ridiculous," Shada grumbled, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand, the signal that the room contained no surveillance equipment.

Karrde nodded, "I'm quite satisfied.  Now, let us get down to business."

"How many ysalamiri is your employer interested in?" Beppo asked.

"Only the ones you have recently sold."

The Rodian's snout twitched in confusion.  "What?"

Karrde leaned forward, elbows resting on the pink armrests of his chair.  "I want to know to whom you have recently sold ysalamiri."

Shaking his head, Beppo replied, "I'm sorry, my client list is confidential."

"I understand that, but I need you to make an exception."

Beppo's snout was working overtime as his suspicion grew.  "I'm not interested in this kind of deal."

"I think you will be," Karrde intoned.

Shada sprang from her chair and leapt over the desk with an agility and speed that would make the Noghri look inept.  With her left hand she plucked Beppo's hand away from the panic button he had been about to push, and with her right she pressed to his neck a stiletto that had been concealed as one of her hairpins.

The Rodian's complexion turned the shade of cold pea soup.  "What is this?" he stammered.

"I know this is rather abrupt," Karrde apologized, "but I only want a name.  If you prefer, I'll even give you a list, and you have merely to inform me if you have dealt with any of them in the past six months.  I think you'll like my terms."

Beppo cringed as Shada's stiletto bit into his neck.  "I'll demand a high price for that information."

"Oh, I'll pay you in something better than credits," Karrde assured him.  "You see, we have a mutual acquaintance, Nalla the Hutt."

At the name, Beppo jumped, causing the stiletto to prick his skin and draw a drop of purple blood.

"Yes," Karrde said.  "It seems a certain Rodian named Teem owes her an enormous sum of money, so much so that she was forced to put a bounty on his head.  Naturally that drove him underground, and he even took on a new name.  But as a favor to me, she offered to cancel the debt if you cooperate with me."

The Rodian's ears began to tremble as Shada gazed at him with eyes as sharp as the blade pressed against his neck.  "How do I know she will really cancel the debt?"

Karrde reached into his vest and brought out an envelope which he placed on Beppo's desk.  "I have the document canceling your debt right here.  It lacks only my signature to make legal.  My name, by the way, is Captain Talon Karrde."

If it was possible for the Rodian's eyes to widen in shock, they would have. As it was they nearly bulged from his skull.  "Talon Karrde?!" he shrieked.  "Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"Because you would have tried to kill me, and I do so hate when that happens."

"I would never have tried to kill you, and I must say I find your offer quite generous."

"I'm glad you think so.  Shall we review the list then?"

Shada took up position behind Beppo, her blade never far from his neck, as Karrde reviewed the list.

"The Eriadu Brigands!" Beppo squeaked when he saw the name.  "Yes, I dealt with them not four months ago!"

"Any others?"  Karrde asked coolly.

Scanning the list, Beppo pronounced, "No, just them."

"I'll need proof, of course."

"Yes, certainly, I have the records in my computer if your, er, assistant will let me call it up."  Shada gestured with the stiletto, and Beppo swiveled in his chair to the computer recessed into the wall behind him.  His suction cup tipped fingers tapped adroitly on the keys, and within moments the screen displayed a record of fifteen ysalamiri having been sold to Janus Binga, one of the crew of the Eriadu Brigands.

_If I'd known it would be this easy... Karrde mused to himself, despite the fact that his natural attention to detail meant he would have been just as cautious and thorough in his setup.  "I appreciate your cooperation.  And of course this matter will stay between us.  Now, if you'll give me a pen I will sign the document releasing you of your debts, and all that remains will be for you to accompany us out into the street on the arm of my lovely assistant here, and we may consider our deal closed."_

Beppo watched hungrily as Karrde signed the document, and he immediately snatched it to his chest.  "I must say it is a pleasure doing business with you, Captain."  

  


Chapter Twenty-four: Husbands and Wives

A special car was sent to pick up Luke and two of his bodyguards, cloaked heavily to conceal their identity, to bring them to his meeting with Antiradu Akeeno at the Presidential Palace.  They entered the compound secretly through a service entrance, where Luke and guards were met and escorted through the maze of hallways that made up the residential and business sections of the massive building which housed the presidential and vice presidential families, as well as officing them and countless other government employees.

So intent was Luke on his impending meeting with Dimi's widower that he did not recognize where he was being led until he was in the hallway of the Presidential suite.  Luke froze when he recognized the doorway, guarded once again by two Noghri who regarded him impassively.  He locked his knees to keep from falling as sweat broke out over his entire body.  One of his escorts turned to look at him, a cold light in his eyes.  "The President's widower is waiting for you," he intoned.

Luke licked his parched lips as the panic he had not felt since returning to Coruscant once again threatened to overwhelm him.  This could not be happening.  "Does it have to be there?" he whispered.

"Do you refuse to meet with Radu?" the escort challenged.  

Numbly Luke shook his head.  He forced his legs to move again, each step taking him back in time, closer to that awful night.

The surly escort rapped twice on the door before opening it.  "Just you," he muttered to Luke.  "Your guards will wait out here."

Taking a deep breath which failed to steady him, Luke stepped into the room and into the maelstrom of sensations which it unleashed in him: the scent of the Noghri guards' flesh as Luke's saber burned into them, the stealthy silence of the night as he crept into the room, the perspiration trickling down his forehead and stinging his eyes, the steel cold taste of fear in his mouth.  But the room itself had been dark.  He had no memory of what the room had looked like then.  Instead, it presented itself to his vision now, a picture of tranquil harmony and balance, with its simple but elegant furniture interspersed with samples of folk art and indigenous pride.  Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with weathered, well-read tomes, companions during Dimi's long years of exile.  It was not the room of a president or a hero, but of an elder woman with simple tastes and a lively mind, a room arranged equally well for private study or for intimate conversation.  A room in which one felt at home.

"Welcome," a voice said, startling Luke out of himself.  It was more of a challenge than a greeting.  Luke looked over to where Antiradu Akeeno stood at a window, his body half facing Luke, as if he had just turned from watching something outside.  "Make yourself comfortable," he offered, again in a bitter tone.  "After all, you've been here before."

Luke felt his legs start to give way again, and he stumbled into the nearest chair in order to keep from collapsing.  He clasped his trembling hands between his knees.

Radu walked slowly toward him.  "I'm sorry my wife couldn't be here to meet you.  She so admired you, held you in very high esteem."  He stopped directly in front of Luke, hands held behind his back, his face expressionless.  "And now you want to pay your respects.  It's a little late for that, don't you think?"

Luke bowed his head, tears squeezing out of the corners of his eyes.  He did not answer.  He could not.

"Why," Radu mused, half to himself, "do you want to visit my wife's grave, when it is you who sent her there?"

Luke could not look up, could not face this man whom he had so deeply wrong.  "I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly, aware of how petty it sounded, and yet unable to say anything else.

"You're sorry," Radu echoed slowly, "to have murdered my wife as she lay sleeping next to me in our bed."  The words accused, but the voice was merely pensive.  Radu studied the shattered man before him.  Like everyone else, he had been amazed to learn the famed Jedi Master was his wife's assassin.  He had been amazed to receive the Jedi's request to visit Dimi's grave, and he was amazed that the man sat before him now, weeping so openly, not concealing -- what?  His guilt?  His grief?  Luke Skywalker's motivations were an enigma to him, and Radu wanted to understand what had brought them both to this place.

He repeated his earlier question, but in a more neutral tone.  "Why do you want to visit Dimi's grave?  What purpose would it serve?"

The change in inflection was not lost on Luke.  He swallowed his tears and collected himself as best he could.  He knew anything he said was likely to sound hollow and self-serving, like an attempt to justify the unjustifiable, but he could only speak the truth.  "I admired her," he professed.  "She was a hero of mine.  I always wanted to meet her."

Radu accepted this unlikely accolade.  His eyes searched Luke's face, although the younger man refused to look at him.  "Then why did you kill her?"

At last Luke looked up, and Radu saw his own grief reflected in those depthless eyes.  "Because they would have killed my wife."

Radu's heart grew cold in his chest.  "And so you killed mine.  You made me a widower to keep yourself from becoming one."  He tilted his head to one side.  "Does that not strike you as ironic?"

"Yes," Luke answered, and Radu knew he spoke truth.

"What if I had killed you to prevent Dimi's death?  Or killed your own wife in a similar bargain?"

"You would have been justified."

"Are you saying _you were justified?"_

_ Luke's jaw clenched, and he dropped his gaze.  "I did the only thing I could," he said softly._

"And what you could do," Radu finished, "was kill my wife."

Luke did not reply, for indeed the answer was obvious.

Radu's grief surged through his body, and to relieve the tension so he would not break down in front of Skywalker, he stood and walked slowly around the room.  He paused in front of a photograph hanging on the wall, a well-known press photo of his wife on the day she was released from prison, her clenched fist held high in triumph.  He ran his finger over the cold glass that separated him from the image.  It was a familiar sensation, the only way he had been able to touch his wife for twenty years.

"How can a marriage survives so long," he mused out loud, "when the partners are separated by so great a chasm?  We were permitted visits every six months, but because of complications and harassment, I only saw her fourteen times in all those years.  Thirty minutes at a time, seven hours total.  In nineteen years."  He stroked his wife's image through the glass, speaking to her as much as to Luke.  "We were allowed to exchange letters once every three months.  The prison censors didn't leave much to be read.  They used to black out the sentences before they realized that we could soak the ink off and read what was underneath.  After that they used scissors.  It didn't matter that we wrote on both sides of the page.  Reading those letters was like trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle with three-fourths of the pieces missing.

"Never once in all those years was I able to touch her, to kiss her, to hold her hand.  In some ways nothing has really changed.  All my life I have been married to a woman who was not there.  What kind of a marriage is that?"

His voice trailed off, and he turned, resting his back against the wall, his head next to Dimi's picture as he stared past Luke.  "I was wed to her spirit, a spirit that is so strong, so vibrant, that it possesses my body and shapes my life.  Even now I cannot separate her thoughts from mine in my head.  When I speak, it is her voice I hear.  My skin gives off her scent, and when I listen to my own heartbeat, I hear it echo hers."  His eyes sought out Luke's.  "I love her," he asserted.  His voice was quiet, but with an undercurrent of passion that caused Luke's bones to vibrate with its resonance.  "To be physically separated from her is like losing one of my own limbs, and yet she is nearer to me than my own breath.  That is where you have left me.  That is the state to which you have returned me.  Only before at least I could hope that one day we might be united.  That is the hope you have forever taken from me."

Luke remained silent, letting Radu's words, his emotions, wash over him and through him.  He did not flinch from it but drank it in, in all its sweet bitterness.  He recognized this grief.  He saw it in Mara's eyes whenever he caught her at an unguarded moment, the haunted expression that said, _I will lose the one I love._

"And what of your wife," Radu inquired, echoing Luke's thoughts, "who you saved at the price of mine?"  He moved to the chair across from Luke and seated himself so they were face to face.  "My wife died so that yours might live.  Tell me, what did her death buy?"  Again, the words reproved, but the voice was gentle and curious.

"Mara," Luke breathed, and he could not help but smile.  The sound of her name was like balm on his wounded soul.  "When she first met me, she hated me, but only because I was her Master's enemy."  Luke hesitated.  He still did not know how to put his feelings for Mara into words.  The relationship was still too new.  "When I first met her, I was somehow given a vision into her soul.  She was a being so different for me, so apart for me, and yet we were bound together in a way I could not deny any more than I could explain.  The challenge she offered me felt like the missing key to my life, a key to unlock something I didn't even know was in me.

"We, too, were separated by prison, but one of our own building.  In denying each other, we denied ourselves.  For ten years we remained in hiding.  Then I had a vision in which she appeared dead.  All I knew, without understanding, was that if she died, something inside me would remain undiscovered forever.  I couldn't live without finding out what she would find in me."

Radu nodded in understanding.  "And what did she find?"

The truth burst upon Luke for the first time, and he spoke with an intense longing that only orphans know.  "Home," he professed in helpless wonder.  "Family.  My own family."  His heart split open, and pure happiness spilled out to flood his soul.  No matter what happened now, he knew he would be all right.  His face radiant, he proclaimed, "At last I know what it means to belong to someone."

Radu watched him, as the younger man surrendered himself to this love, a love Radu recognized well.  "Yes," he sighed, leaning back in his chair.  "Yes, I know."

Luke shook once, then buried his face in his hands as intense emotion coursed through him.  He rode the wave as it crested and slowly subsided, leaving him as trembling and eager as a newborn.  He felt a blissful agony, to have discovered his life just when he might lose it.

Radu stood and once again slowly circled the room, as if through mindful walking he could find the path he needed to take.  Or perhaps mindfulness would make this path worth walking, for he could not choose the path he was on.

He stopped at the window so he could look out across the green lawn to the bustling city beyond, a city full of hopes and fears, awaiting a promise yet to be fulfilled.  A promise that he vowed would yet be fulfilled.

Without turning he said, "You may visit her grave, both you and your wife.  I hope you find there what you're looking for."

Stunned, Luke stammered, "Thank you."

Cutting him off with a wave of his hand, Radu said, "You may go now."

Luke took a moment to collect himself.  It seemed he should say something, but he could think of nothing appropriate.  Radu was offering him a gift he had no right to expect, and hardly felt he had the right to accept.  His heart twitched inside his chest in the first pangs of healing.  Gratefully, he accepted the boon, then he stood and turned to the door.

Just before Luke exited the room, Radu called to him, "And take fernassi blossoms.  They were her favorite."


	9. Chapters 25-27

Chapter Twenty-five: Opening Arguments 

In the days leading up to the trial, all of Pamylasia held its breath.  Demonstrations continued every day in Endirion's main square, but the atmosphere was increasingly hushed and expectant, not chaotic and destructive as some on Pamylasia might have liked.  The people realized that far more was at stake for their future than Luke Skywalke's guilt or innocence.  All the guilty parties must be found and brought to justice.

Although Aajulon made Skywalker's capture and trial central points in his campaign, all but claiming credit for Luke's capture himself, Radu Akeeno had remained largely silent on the issue.  When pressed, he stunned the public with his announcement that he believed the truly guilty ones had so far escaped justice.  People began to ask themselves if Akeeno's widower were so reserved about the trial, perhaps their own zeal was misplaced.

Nevertheless, the weight of public opinion continued to lean heavily against Luke.  On the day the trial began, Luke and his entourage had to navigate a sea of demonstrators and hostile crowds from their compound all the way to the court steps.  The courtroom itself was packed with onlookers, and cameras had been set up to broadcast the trial for all the planet to watch.  Luke's lawyers had succeeded in their petition to have his restraining collar removed now that he had return to Pamylasia, but they could not keep the cameras out of court, and so the entire planet watched as the opening arguments were made in the greatest trial in their history.

Following Pamylasian custom, the defense spoke first.  Luke's lawyers decided that Capitolina Apurta would lead the defense.  Backed as she would be by the prodigious talents of the Republic lawyers, Apurta brought her own skills to the case, as well as her dedication to the defense following her discovery of the attempts against Luke's life while he was in prison.  They felt it would help lend credibility to Luke for him to be defended by a Pamylasian.

Apurta stood to deliver her opening arguments, aware that she had an entire planet as her audience.  "Gentle friends of the jury," she began, "a great tragedy has brought us to this place.  We have lost a great leader who can never be replaced.  But she did not leave us alone.  Dimi's legacy of freedom and justice will live on so long as we continue to live out her vision of a Pamylasia for all.

"As a part of that legacy, Dimi signed into law the Intergalactic Treaty on Sapient Rights and the Convention Against Torture.  We on Pamylasia are well-experienced with what it means to live without basic rights.  Few of us here are wholly untouched by the recent injustices in our history, injustices which included acts of torture.  Dimi herself was tortured more than once during her struggle for freedom.  She above all knew about sapient rights abuses, and that is why she made the Convention Against Torture into the rule of law.  Victims of torture have been forced to provide information to our oppressors; they were tortured into betraying their comrades, compelled to disavow their cause, even occasionally forced to commit crimes.  Indeed the entire galaxy experienced these injustices during the rule of the Emperor.  When freedom was restored to the galaxy, one of the first acts of the new Republic was to declare that greater than any betrayal or crime committed under torture, torture itself was the greatest crime.  Guilt was assigned to those who tortured, not to their victims.  We honor those who manage not to break under torture, but we also honor the suffering of those who do, because we believe no one should be tortured for any aim.  No one."  She looked into the face of each of the jurors before continuing.  "Not even a Jedi Knight.

"Luke Skywalker has also known torture.  He has suffered for his beliefs, for his commitment to the Alliance, for information he held, and for simply being who he is.  But it was for his skills that some unknown person or persons wanted him when he and his wife were kidnapped several months ago.  Pain was applied to his wife, but he was no less tortured.  The threat: his wife would be killed unless he agreed to murder Dimishaneer Akeeno.

"Murder in defense of a loved one is also not a crime under our current laws.  Acts committed under torture are not crimes.  So why is Skywalker here now?  We all want justice for Dimi.  We want those responsible for her death to pay for their crime.  But Luke Skywalker, though a tool, was not responsible.  He admired our Dimi, as did many in the galaxy.  The crime asked of him was unthinkable, unbearable to him even now.  But all he desired was to protect his wife, as was his right under the law.

"Luke Skywalker is innocent.  The guilty ones have yet to be found.  We will not know justice until it is they who stand in the dock."

Apurta took her seat amid perfect silence.  From the dour expressions on many of the faces in the courtroom, she knew she had hardly convinced them, but so long as she had given them something to think about -- especially those on the jury -- she was content for now.  

The prosecution next gave its opening statement, the substance of which was hardly unexpected.  "The laws which our beloved late President put into effect to protect sapient rights are indeed the hallmark of our life here on Pamylasia.  The defense would have you believe that these rights are critical in their case.

"But Luke Skywalker is no ordinary being.  He is a Jedi Knight.  Indeed, he is the Master Jedi Knight.  His powers and skills are prodigious.  This is the man who single-handedly blew up the first Death Star." (Han Solo couldn't help but squirm at that.)  "This is the man who slew both Darth Vader and the Emperor Palpatine."  (Now it was Luke's turn to fidget.)  "His miraculous abilities have been witnessed firsthand by countless thousands of people throughout the galaxy.  He is the stuff of legend.

"Indeed it was for these formidable skills that he was solicited to assassinat our Dimi Akeeno.  Yet the defense would have us believe he murdered Dimi solely to protect his wife.  Can we truly believe that there was no other way Skywalker could save her?  This, the man who was well-documented to have cheated death time and time again?

"This man allowed his powerful talents to be used for evil.  Yes, his wife was tortured, but both Skywalker and Mara Jade are Jedi Knights.  Should not we, the people of this Republic which they are sworn to protect, be able to expect that they will not allow their skills to be exploited for evil purposes?  Even the Republic itself has a policy not to negotiate with terrorists.  Why does Luke Skywalker claim his case to be an exception?

"This fact is known: Luke Skywalker himself murdered Dimishaneer Akeeno in her bed while her husband lay sleeping next to her.  He has confessed to the murder.  Indeed, the evidence suggests strongly that only Luke Skywalker was capable of slipping through security and killing the Noghri bodyguards in order to assassinate Akeeno.  If he has such great powers for good, should he not be under an obligation to prevent his powers from being used for evil?  For if he is under no such obligation, who will be able to stop him?  Who stopped Darth Vader during his reign of terror and death?  Why, it was Luke Skywalker.  But who will provide the check to his power?  The galaxy knows well the devastation an out-of-control Jedi can work, a Jedi who believes himself to be above the law.

"The prosecution does not have to prove Skywalker murdered Akeeno and her two bodyguards.  He has confessed.  But we will further demonstrate that he allowed his power to be exploited, that he negotiated with terrorists, and that he poses a threat to the entire galaxy what he claims shelter under the Convention Against Torture, a cowardly move which exempts him from being held accountable for his own abuse of power.  Luke Skywalker is a murderer, and he has betrayed us all."  

This time the audience in the courtroom could not restrain themselves.  As soon as the prosecution concluded, the court filled with shouts and cries.  Pamylasian flags were unfurled, and several passionate onlookers began to sing the national anthem.

The judge hammered at her desk with her gavel, and she restored order quickly.  The audience had been warned against precisely such outbursts, and no one wanted to jeopardize their hard-won seats in the court.  Once the room was again silent, the judge announced a fifteen minute break, after which the prosecution would begin their arguments.

The case of the people of Pamylasia vs. Luke Skywalker had begun.

  
Chapter Twenty-six 

"Reverting from hyperspace in sixty seconds," Idi Athar announced from the co-pilot's seat.  "Strap in."

As he buckled on his restraint, Corran Horn muttered, "This had better be worth it."

From the passenger seat behind him, Lanari said, "What, trying to help Luke isn't enough for you?"

"That's not the problem," he returned.  "It's working with smugglers I can't stand."

Idi shot him a glance, "Don't you have a few too many former smugglers in your acquaintance to be complaining, present company included?"

"Hey, I was never a smuggler," Lanari corrected.

"No, just a mercenary for hire," Corran said.

Outside the cockpit canopy, the insane light show of hyperspace coalesced into streaked lines, which in turn shrank to pinpoints of starlight in real space.  Before them hung a fleet of a score or so ships.

"A sight like that always makes me want to start arresting people," muttered Corran.

"Take it easy, CorSec," Lanari chided.  "Karrde's with the good guys now, remember?"

"I'll try to."  His hands moved over the ship's controls as he brought their vessel alongside the _Wild Karrde._

The comm beeped and a voice said, "Unnamed vessel, state your business."

Flipping a switch, Corran returned, "We're just a ship full of three crazy Jedi.  Who else would revert here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Cute.  You can land in our starboard docking bay."

Without answering, Corran toggled off the comm and deftly brought the ship into the offered bay.  He landed the ship manually, with scarcely a jolt, just to make sure everyone knew he could do it.  But no one seemed to be paying any attention.  As soon as they were down, Lanari and Idi unbuckled their restraints and headed back toward the hatch.  Corran shrugged and quickly followed them.

Karrde stood with several of his associates in the hanger.  As the Jedi approached him, he gestured for them to follow him as he led them down a hallway.  "You made good time."

"We had good reason to hurry," Lanari replied.  "What's the news?"

"We believe we have found them.  I identified apparently the only ysalamiri trader who has dealt within the last six months with a group that possibly matches the description Luke and Mara gave me."

"Possibly?" Corran repeated.

"Well, we cannot be sure until we've questioned them, can we?"  He reached a briefing room and palmed opened the door.  He motioned for the Jedi to enter first, before following.  They all seated themselves around a table, and Karrde continued, "Our quarry are the Eriadu Brigands, and we have traced them to a certain hangout popular with pirates and their kind in the Khuiumin System not far from here."

Corran groaned.  "Not Courkrus?"  Karrde raised a curious eyebrow at him, and he explained, "I've been there before."

Lanari gave him a concerned look.  "Will you be recognized there?"

"I doubt it.  It was a long time ago, and I was in disguise."

With a nod, Lanari turned back to Captain Karrde.  "So what's the plan?"

"It's a large group, and we need to flush them out of hiding en masse so we will be certain to get all of them.  I want you three to go planetside, undercover as it were, and start making subtle inquiries as if you were merely interested in some business with them.  Here's the trick, though: when you're certain they know you're interested, I want you to reveal you are Jedi, as if by accident.  This will tip them off and they'll try to flee -- right into my fleet waiting to pick them up."

Corran frowned.  "It's an awfully complicated plan.  You don't need all of them anyway.  The three of us will just go down and pick up the leader.  Easy enough."

Karrde pursed his lips.  "I need all of them."

"Why?" he asked.

"I would rather not divulge my reasons.  Suffice it to say I have them."

Corran shook his head, "Not good enough."

"Horn, just drop it," Lanari warned.

"I will not drop it," Corran protested.  "Why does he want all of them anyway?  This is a complicated plan which puts us in danger, not him.  If he even thinks I'll go along with it, I want to know why."

Karrde sighed, "Don't you trust me?"

"You may have gone publicly legitimate, Karrde, but I know you must keep up some of your old line of business," Corran replied.

"Corran Horn, " Karrde mused, considering him.  "You used to be a member of the Corellian Security Forces, is that not so?"

"Yes," Corran's jaw tightened.  "So you'll forgive me if trust doesn't come too easily to me."

With an apologetic look, Lanari observed, "He gets a little thick-headed about these things sometimes."  Before Corran could protest, she continued, "But he does have a point.  Even three Jedi run a heavy risk when we crash the party on a planet full of pirates.  It would help if we knew why.  I guarantee that we will keep your reasons confidential."

With a respectful bow, Karrde said, "The Dragon's word is as good as gold."

"Honor among thieves," Corran muttered.

Without looking at him, Lanari rebuked, "Watch your mouth, CorSec."

To Karrde's surprise, Corran gave in and settled back in his chair, his hostility draining off, if not his suspicion.  For several moments, Karrde contemplated the exchange he had just witnessed.  Then with a nod to Lanari signaling that he identified her as the leader he said, "My reasons are rather delicate, but I'm sure you will appreciate the situation.  There was only one source I could trust to lead me to the ysalamiri dealer, Admiral Pellaeon of the Imperial Navy."

Corran and Idi both registered surprise, but Lanari merely nodded as if the answer were obvious.

Karrde continued, "He agreed to give me the dealer's name, but only if I agreed to capture the pirates and bring them to Imperial space first, giving them the opportunity to defect."

"What?" Corran protested.  "You're going to just hand these criminals over to them, after what they did to Mara?"

Karrde pursed his lips, stung by the accusation in Corran's voice.  "He originally asked for Republic military secrets.  I'm not sure Luke would approve of such terms."

Lanari quickly interjected, "You will turn all of them over to the Empire?"

"No.  I will keep as many as I feel are necessary for Luke's defense.  And I'm not turning them in. I'm giving them a chance to defect.  It will be their choice.  And Pellaeon said he wants them because they're resourceful, not because he wants to hunt Jedi."

"Yeah, resourceful enough to torture Mara in order to get to Luke," Corran said bitterly.

"Look, I'm not happy with the situation, either," Karrde protested.  "I'd like to see them all pay for what they did, but my highest priority is helping Skywalker, and if that means making a deal with the Empire, then so be it.  Besides, the Republic can still try to track them.  After all, because of me they finally know who the kidnappers are."

Even Corran could not dispute that fact, and he again backed down.  With a glance at him and Idi, Lanari announced, "All right.  You did what you had to do, as will we.  Now let's review the plan in detail.  The sooner we act the better."  

  


Chapter Twenty-seven: Conspiracy

Tildin stood and crossed the room to greet him, her hand outstretched to shake his.  "Amil, it is good to see you again."

_Why do I shudder every time she says that?  Aajulon wondered as he shook her offered hand.  "It is good to see you as well, Baron."_

"Please, have a seat," Tildin offered, gesturing for him to join them.  "Will you take some brandy?"

"A little," Aajulon agreed as he seated himself.

Tildin nodded to Khazir, who poured a glass.  Tildin sat in the chair facing Aajulon and settled back contentedly.  "Your campaign is going well.  And your choice in a running mate was very prudent.  Karanjian of the Free Democracy Party, she is a solid choice."

Aajulon received the brandy from Khazir and took a sip.  "Thank you.  She is indeed an asset, but the race is still close.  Akeeno can do no wrong in the people's view."

Tildin's eyes grew a shade darker.  "Yes, so it seems.  But Radu may not be all he appears.  I want you to meet someone."  She gestured to a figure standing in the corner.  "This is a particular associate of ours, Prem Nivas."

The man stepped forward.  Pockmarks scarred his thin, dark cheeks, and his hair was slicked back.  His quick eyes, nestled under heavy eyebrows, took in everything around him.  He wore a silver chain around his neck, with a crest made of four stylized bats, their wings intertwined.

Aajulon nodded his head.  "It is a pleasure to meet you, Baron Nivas."

Nivas started and glanced quickly at Tildin.  "I am not a Baron, Your Excellency."

"But the crest --"

"-- was given to me by the Barons as an expression of gratitude for my service all these years.  They allowed me to choose the bats for my crest.  I am a great admirer of their legend."

Aajulon nodded in approval.  "I am sure you are as wise and as cunning as they are."

"And just as indispensable," Tildin added.  "Prem has been investigating some things for us, and he has learned of something which you might be interested to hear."  Her eyes narrowed.  "I warn you, it is quite shocking.  He has no proof as yet, but if the allegation does prove true, it could be ... well, you shall see.  Prem?"

Nivas bowed toward her, ventured again to Aajulon.  "I wonder if you knew that Antiradu Akeeno recently met with Luke Skywalker?"

Surprised, Aajulon admitted, "No, I did not."

"He met with him in the Presidential Suite, no less.  I found this to be rather unusual, so I investigated into what business Akeeno might have with his wife's murderer.  As you may know, Skywalker's legal expenses are being covered by many donations.  I was able to investigate the list of donors.  Several, of course, were anonymous, but I did manage to trace a very large donation here to Pamylasia, with an account held by Tembo and Makesh, Anitradu's sister's law firm."

Aajulon gripped his glass harder but remained silent.

Nivas waited a few moments for this information to work its way throroughly into Aajulon's mind before continuing.  "I have also learned that Antiradu has made a series of off-world contacts over the past six months, a large number of them to Courkrus in the Khuiumin System, a well-known hangout of pirates and mercenaries.  Now, the pieces do not yet all fit fully together, but they are beginning to indicate that Antiradu Akeeno may have been involved in the plot to kill his wife.  He may in fact be behind it."

Aajulon sat frozen in his chair.  At last he stammered, "No, that can't be true."

With a quick glance again to Tildin, Prem Nivas continued.  "It seems that Radu may have been less than happy to have his wife reemerge from prison to take the limelight back from him.  I have evidence that during Dimi's imprisonment, Radu acquired quite a bit of power for himself in the shantytowns in Endirion.  He headed up gangs of young 'freedom fighters,' as he called them, really thugs who helped him run a protection racket."

"I have heard of them, "Aajulon confessed warily.  "They were called the Freedom Brigade."

"Yes.  Well, in fact they helped Radu acquire significant power and even money in the shantytowns.  Furthermore, he was one of the Vice Presidents of the PPP, and President of the Endirion  Chapter, but he stepped down from those positions when Dimi was released from prison.  I even have evidence of marital strife over precisely these issues.  It seems Radu may have loved his wife best in absentia."

At an imperceptible gesture from Tildin, Prem Nivas fell silent.  All eyes in the room were on Aajulon as he absorbed this information and turned it over in his mind.  He slowly shook his head in shock.  "I cannot believe it," he whispered.  "I always respected Radu.  Could he have really..."  He trailed off, unable to put the damning accusation into words.

Gently, Prem Nivas said, "It is shocking, I know.  And I cannot yet say it for certain, although the evidence hints strongly at the conclusion.  But I will continue to investigate until I have uncovered the truth, no matter how unpleasant."

"Yes.  Yes, please do," Aajulon said.  "But you must make absolutely certain, have incontrovertible proof.  I will not be a part of any vain slander or accusation.  It must be fully backed up by fact."

"Certainly," Tildin agreed.  "If this news is indeed true, we will be duty-bound to make it known, but only if we're certain."

Aajulon nodded, his face again clouded with shock.  "I appreciate your notifying me first.  Let me know as soon as you learn anything more.  And now I'm afraid I must leave."

The Barons all stood as Aajulon departed, still distressed.  When the doors had closed behind him, Khazir asked, "What do you think?"

"He was shocked, of course, as anyone might be," Tildin mused, tracing her gold chain with her fingers.  "But despite his protestations, he could believe it.  He did not dismiss the accusation out of hand."

"If we do our part," Marwan spoke from the shadows of the corner where she had watched the whole interview, "then he will believe it.  Prem, you must make the evidence convincing beyond the shadow of a doubt."

Prem Nivas' eyes darkened, and he bowed.  "You may rely on me."


	10. Chapters 28-30

Author's note:  Sorry this post was so long in coming, but I was having trouble getting onto the website for some reason.  Also, the Earth names in Chapter 29 belong to my best friend (Lanari is actually her creation), my sister, and my brother-in-law, the latter two of whom are in graduate school in Indiana.  I know it kind of pulls you out of the GFFA, but just relax and go with the flow.

Chapter Twenty-eight: The Restaurant

The trial began with the prosecution presenting their arguments.  In point of fact, however, they had little to present in the way of evidence.  Luke had been so stealthy that none of the surveillance cameras had recorded his presence.  As he had worn gloves, he had left no fingerprints.  Actually, there was not a shred of physical evidence linking him to the crime.  All the prosecution had was Luke's own well-publicized confession.

This dearth of evidence, however, did not prevent them from making a lengthy case.  Their chief testimony came in the form of character witnesses, presenting their highly biased opinions about Luke's lack of moral character.  The prosecution had managed to dig up every person in the galaxy who had ever held a grudge against Luke Skywalker, including several Old Order Knights who were perfectly content to avail themselves of the publicity.

Throughout the trial, the prosecution team demonstrated tremendous incompetence.  Perhaps they thought the verdict was such a foregone conclusion that they felt no need to work hard in behalf of their case.  They had reason to believe so.  Due to the media coverage, everyone on the planet was able to follow each day of the trial, and opinion polls consistently showed that the public had already decided on Luke's guilt.

All of this negative testimony quickly wore down Luke's spirit.  He grew tired of his confinement to the estate in Endirion.  Although the grounds were lovely, he longed to move around, to get out and see the city, to do anything other than sit around with the same people discussing the trial.  Finally one evening he declared his intention to go out to eat for dinner.

"You're crazy, kid," Han protested in astonishment.  "There's hordes of people waiting out there.  They'll lynch you."  

Luke resolutely set his jaw.  "Well, they deserve their shot."

"That's ridiculous," scolded Han, wagging a finger in Luke's face.  "You're staying here, and that's that."

Luke sighed.  "Han, this trial could go on forever.  You can't tell me you'll really last staying cooped up in here all that time."

Hesitating, Han said, "Well..."

"Sooner or later we will have to go out, if only to keep us all from going stir crazy.  And since I'm starting to go nuts already, now seems like as good a time as any."

Han couldn't really come up with an effective counter-argument, especially since he was growing restless himself.  So he, Chewie and Anath decided to join Luke and Mara in what he was sure would be an unpleasant adventure.  They were further accompanied by four bodyguards, two of them Jedi, and two from Republic Security Forces.

But finding a place to eat proved difficult after all.  Over and over, they would attempt to enter a restaurant only to be met by indignant patrons who refused them admittance.  A crowd soon gathered behind them, expressing their disapproval with dark looks and grumblings and taking a perverse glee in seeing Luke constantly humiliated.  Anath was the only one who even tried to remain upbeat.  Han complained loudly that he wanted to give up on the whole affair, and Mara stalked silently alongside, a tightly wound coil just waiting to snap at the slightest provocation.  But Luke ignored them, apparently willing to endure the ire of the entire population of Endirion.

They were working their way down the streets near their house, stopping at each restaurant in succession.  They no longer even bothered considering what kind of food they wanted.  Their only criterion now was simply to be allowed admittance.  They entered a small, homey establishment and waited in the entry way.  The woman who showed guests to their seats took one look at Luke and stammered, "One moment please."  She ducked quickly through a swinging door into the kitchen, but since the kitchen opened out onto the dining area, they could hear every word she said.

"It's that man!" she whispered furiously to another woman, middle-aged and stout, who evidently headed the kitchen.  "He actually wants to eat here.  The nerve!"

The cook wiped her hands on her apron and glanced over the counter to where Luke and the others were waiting.  "Well, they've got to eat somewhere, don't they?"

"Maybe so, but not here!"

With another glance at them, the cook positioned herself with her back to them and lowered her voice, but Luke's Force-sensitive ears could still hear.  "Look at all those people out on the street.  They'll probably come in and watch.  Could be good business."

"Good business!" the other whispered furiously.  "Bad publicity, you mean.  It'll ruin our reputation if we let him in here."

"Oh, I doubt that.  People always like something famous, they don't care whether its notoriety or not."  

The cook turned and pushed through the door, as the other woman urged, "Come back here."  But the cook ignored her as she approached Luke.

He began, "Eight restaurants have refused us so far..."

She raised her eyebrows.  "All nine of you want to sit together?  We can push some tables together in the center of the room.  Or I can give you a couple of booths in the back for a little privacy."

It took a moment before the words finely registered.  "The booths would be fine," he stammered.

Grabbing a handful of menus, the cook said, "Follow me, please."

The entire waitstaff and kitchen staff came out to watch as she led them to the back of the dining area.  Dinner guests paused with their forks halfway to their lips in astonishment at the sight.  The crowd outside tentatively followed them into the restaurant and several of them took seats so they could watch.

When they had settled into two of the booths, the cook passed out the menus.  She glanced back at her partner and the waitstaff, gesturing for someone to come and take the orders, but her partner shook her head furiously, and the waitstaff stood frozen in place.  The cook shrugged and looked back at Luke.  "Looks like I'll be taking your order."

Still shocked to have been admitted, Luke belatedly stammered, "Thank you."

"Look, let's get one thing straight," the cook said.  "I loved Dimi Akeeno.  We all did."  Her gaze flipped quickly to Mara.  "But I'd do anything to protect my wife, too."

Luke let her words sink in.  He glanced back at the woman who hadn't wanted to admit them.  "Is that her?"

The cook smiled.  "She's a little excitable, but she's a good person.  She'll come around."

Luke rather doubted it, but he smiled, "I understand."

The cook took their orders, then returned to the crowd of staff watching from the kitchen.  "Why don't some of you lazy slops take the orders from the rest of our newcomers?" she rebuked, jabbing her thumb toward all the onlookers who were rapidly filling the restaurant.  The waitstaff jumped to do her bidding, as her wife's eyes narrowed in disapproval.

"I can't believe you let him in here, Lani!" she moaned.

"He has to eat somewhere, Nima.  And look at how this place has filled up.  We never get so much business."

"What were you talking to him about?"

Lani only smiled.  "I was just recommending dishes to him."

Nima's attention focused on the dining room.  "Well, he's causing problems again, just look."

Lani glanced over the counter and saw a handful of indignant people standing near Skywalker's table.  She stormed out of the kitchen and approached them in consternation.  "Hey, all our customers are allowed to dine here in peace!" she rebuked.

"But _such customers," someone sneered._

She folded her arms across her plump chest.  "It doesn't matter.  Now, please return to your own table.  If you've got something to say to him, you can wait until he's done eating."

Reluctantly the other customers obeyed and order was restored to the dining room.  Lani glared disapprovingly around at the faces of everyone gathered in the restaurant, until it was clear they understood the rules.  Then without a glance at Luke, she returned to the kitchen.

Luke and his party remained silent, painfully aware of the number of eyes upon them, but their audience kept their distance, and when the food arrived they began to relax and talk quietly among themselves.

Luke had spent the last few months either in prison or under virtual house arrest, so to be enjoying something as simple as a meal in a retaurant, even under such hostile conditions, came as a welcome relief him.  After all, he was accustomed to being under scrutiny.  But he did want to be seen.  It was part of what he felt he owed the Pamylasians.  When they had finished their meal and Lani brought them their check, Luke thanked her again for her hospitality.

"You're welcome," she replied, "and feel free to come again anytime."

Luke cocked his head.  "Do you really mean that?"

"Yes, I do," she stated firmly.

"I suppose I have brought in a lot of business for you."

Lani laughed.  "That you have, and I appreciate it.  But as I said before, I know you were only trying to protect the one you love, and I don't see what's wrong with that.  Not many restaurants may want your business, but you are welcome here.  Even Nima is starting to come around."

Luke was still skeptical, but he did not contradict.  "I appreciate your intervening when we were trying to eat, but I'm willing to talk to people now, with your permission."

Lani frowned.  "If you really want to talk to them, that's your business.  Just so long as you don't start a riot."

"If it gets ugly, I promise we'll take it outside."

She nodded, then stepped back into a corner to watch what happened.

"Luke," Han warned under his breath.  "Have you forgotten you're in the middle of a trial?"

"Of course not.  But there's nothing I haven't said already."         

He turned back to face the room, and Mara kicked Han under the table.  "Just give it up.  It's his way."  Han moaned, certain that only disaster could follow.

Luke sat facing the room, his expression blank and open, frankly returning the stares the restaurant's other patrons were casting at him.  Most of them turned away when he met their gaze, but a few of them did not.  Luke waited patiently, and at last one person came forward.  She did not emanate hostility so much as grief.  "Why did you do it?" she asked.

Luke paused, then answered gently, "I know you've all read the transcript of my Jedi examination.  I already explained what happened."

She did not answer.  All of them had indeed read the transcript.  They seemed to want some answer beyond the truth, and that Luke could never give them.  She spoke again.  "Did you truly respect Dimi?"

A wave of deep regret threatened to overwhelm Luke.  How could anyone truly offer comfort to people grieving so deeply?  Least of all him?  "Yes, I did," he avowed.  "I am truly sorry for your loss."

"Are you really sorry?" another man grumbled.  "Or just sorry you got caught?"

Luke met the angry gaze with composure.  "I didn't get caught.  I turned myself in."

The man's eyes widened in surprise, then he looked down.

Luke could feel the mood in the room shifting, the complex interplay of intense motions pulling at each other like tidal waves.  No one was ready to forgive him, but he was not at all what they had expected.  They wanted him to be the villain, the heartless murderer they had all painted him to be.  But this calm, saddened man before them forced them to re-examine their need for vengeance.

For several minutes, Luke waited, but no one spoke again.  There was nothing really to be said on either side.  For now it was enough merely to be in the same room together and recognize each other as living, grieving beings.  When it was clear no one had anything more to say, Luke stood up, and his party silently joined him as he left the restaurant and went home.

Over the next few weeks, Luke returned many times to eat at the restaurant.  Word spread quickly, and Nima and Lani were soon doing a booming business as people gathered nightly in the restaurant in the hope that Luke would put in an appearance.  Each time he came he was allowed to eat in peace.  After the meal he spent a few minutes talking to the crowd and then left.  There were never too many questions.  All the important questions had long been asked.  But it was a contact, a way for people to connect with the man who had altered their lives so drastically.

The media of course soon got wind of the visits to the restaurant, but Lani dutifully kept the cameras from entering.  Luke likewise refused to speak if any reporters were in the crowd, and with so many Jedi senses acting in surveillance, no reporter was ever able to sneak in.  They could only wait in the street and interview the crowds, who were increasingly temperate in their views on Skywalker.

Since Luke did not come every night, some people grew tired of waiting.  They began to write letters, expressing what they could not say out loud to his face.  Lani encouraged this informal postal exchange, placing a box next to the cash register so people could leave their letters in safety.  Luke faithfully collected them, but no one in his entourage would allow him to read them unedited, concerned as they were for his morale.  His Jedi companions would take the letters home and review them, placing them in three piles: hostile, supportive, and other.  The hostile pile was by far the largest, consisting mainly of people venting their spleen.  After all, an outrageous injustice had been done, and Luke was still the only person on whom they could vent their anger.

The neutral pile was composed of people expressing their hopes and griefs, even addressing some letters to the departed Dimi herself.  These were the letters that asked the hard questions about what the future held for Pamylasia, about what Luke owed to cleaning up the mess he had made -- many of them the very questions Luke had asked himself.  When he made replies to any letters in his conversations in the restaurant, it was usually to letters that came from this pile.

Finally the smallest pile was of those expressing support for Luke.  Small as it was, though, the numbers were significant, and they grew each day.  Letters from people who  knew another unidentified force was at work behind the murder, letters that knew Luke was as much a victim as Akeeno, letters that feared his trial was a diversion from what was really going on.

And through it all, Luke began to recover a sense of himself, for if this dialogue was not the work of the Jedi, then what was?  Even the hostile letters strengthened him, for they helped him understand what had happened to the people and what was needed to right the wrong.  And it is always better to face accusations head-on rather than to know people are muttering behind one's back and be unable to respond.

It would be a long time before the wounds caused by Akeeno's death would be healed, but at least they had made a start.

Chapter Twenty-nine: The Trap Is Sprung

It took the Jedi a few days to establish themselves on Courkrus.  Lanari and Corran would be the contacts, and Idi Athar served as backup, never seen with them but always discreetly nearby to keep an eye on them.

Lanari found herself easily returning to the role of pirate.  Despite the seriousness of their task she enjoyed the environment with its egos, excesses, and intrigue, the polar opposite of the Jedi life.  If only Mara Jade could have been with her instead of Corran.  The longer they stayed on Courkrus, the shorter his temper grew.  The planet brought back memories of his old role, too.

Through careful and quiet inquiry, Lanari and Corran let it be known that they wanted to meet with the Eriadu Brigands.  Each time they appeared in any of the local pubs, they knew they were being sized up by the Brigands, but they had not as yet met any of them.  But Lanari remembered well how the game was played, and she thought it likely that tonight they would make contact.  If so, then tonight they would also tip their hand.

According to their information, the Mynock's Nest was a favorite hangout of the Brigands.  The place served decent food and copious amounts of alcoholic libations suited for any species of palate.  Unlike many of the other pubs on Courkrus, they did not have regular gaming tables, although there were always a few informal games in play.  The back of the room provided a dart game that had become popular since Lanari's days as the Dragon.  In fact, the environment had greatly changed.  When Lanari had left her former line of work, the Emperor had only recently been killed.  The Underworld had been thriving due to twenty years of civil war.  But peace had brought hard times for those who lived on the wrong side of the law.  Furthermore, during the Empire many criminals really were independent spacers, people who would have run legitimate businesses and lived normal lives if the Empire had not driven them underground through persecution or other hardship.  Peaceful times meant more jobs for people who wanted an honest living, which meant the criminals were of a rougher sort.  Not that that troubled Lanari.  She was actually looking forward to it.

She and Corran sat at a small table close to the center of the bustling room, munching on an order of fried weelies.  Lanari glanced around the room but spotted no one who appeared particularly interested in them.  "I wish you'd let me come up with our cover story," she muttered to Corran around a mouthful of weelies.  "What kind of stupid names are Laura and Matt, anyway?  Sounds like the kind of thing CorSec would come up with."

Corran hunched his shoulders and glared up at her.  "Would you pipe down about that?  What if someone overhears?"

"I told you, there's too much jamming and counterjamming for eavesdropping devices."

"But I thought you said there were lip readers."

Lanari shrugged.  "Occasionally.  That's why I always talk with my mouth full."

"That's your excuse?"  Corran griped, unconvinced.  "Anyway, the names aren't so bad.  Would you have preferred Idi's name?"

"Ann?" she snorted in disgust.  "No way."

Someone is approaching you.  Idi's voice echoed in Lanari's mind.  Athar's excellent telepathy skill was one of the reasons she had been selected as backup.  Lanari did not even try to figure out who the visitor was.  She glanced meaningful at Corran, who remained silent, digging into the weelies.

Someone stopped next to their table.  Lanari looked up -- and up -- at an enormous man.  Their guest stood over two meters tall, his muscular chest straining against his green and red spacer's uniform.  His head was shaved clean, and he bore tattoo marks on his cheeks and massive forearms, now folded across his chest.

Lanari leaned back in her chair, gazing coolly at the giant, her eyes twin blue lasers.  "What do you want?" she growled.

The man's voice rumbled deep in his chest, then rose to his throat.  "I hear you're looking for the Eriadu Brigands," he said in a deep bass that almost hurt Lanari's ears to listen to.

With the slightest movement of her head, Lanari asked, "You fly with them?"

"Used to.  Maybe I still do."  He pulled out a chair and sat down, the plasticene audibly straining beneath his weight.  "Name's Kaymorr."

"Laura," Lanari answered.  Nodding to Corran she added, "This is my associate, Matt.  We represent an organization from Indi'ana VII."

Kaymorr belched laughter with the force of an erupting volcano.  "What are you, a bunch of professors?  No one is interested in your schools here."

Lanari's eyes narrowed.  "Wise people would be."

Not certain if she had just insulted him, Kaymorr frowned.  "What interest could the Brigands possibly have in a planet full of students?"

"Where there's students, there's research, and research means coveted information.  We are interested in establishing a smuggling ring dealing in cutting-edge technology and information."

Kaymorr's yellow eyes shifted from Lanari to Corran and back again, trying to size them up.  "That's ridiculous," he asserted.

"Ever heard of Talon Karrde?"  Corran asked.

"Of course.  Who hasn't?"

Corran shrugged.  "He deals exclusively in information now."

Kaymorr snorted and shook his head.  "Karrde's a sell out.  He went soft."

"He may have gone soft," Lanari mildly concurred, "but Karrde was never one to take a loss in profit.  You can bet if he switched from smuggling to the information trade, it has as much to do with money as ideology."

"Times are changing," Corran added.  "Freedom has led to planets making their own trade agreements, reducing the need for smugglers.  And with the peace, Republic Security forces have the time to crack down on pirates."

"If groups like the Brigands don't start planning for the next thing, they may find themselves out of business," Lanari observed.

"Or in prison," Corran couldn't help but add.

Tilting his head to one side, Kaymorr considered.  "And the next thing is information?"

Lanari nodded.  "Ideas.  The latest research.  People are always interested in being on the cutting-edge.  We have contacts in the university system, but we also need contacts who can help us identify and supply the market.  We heard the Eriadu Brigands were the best."

At that, Kaymorr grinned widely, his white teeth in stark contrast to his dark skin.  "I'll be sure to tell them that next time I see them.  Who knows?  Maybe they'd like to go to school after all."  He shoved his chair back and stood.  "Nice talking with you, professors."

Lanari and Corran nodded in reply, not even bothering to watch him depart.  He was one of them, wasn't he?  Lanari sent to Idi.

Definitely.  There are several more in the crowd.

Lanari nodded discreetly to Corran.  Let me know when they leave.  Now that they knew the Eriadu Brigands were watching them, they could put phase two into action.  None of the Brigands actually had to be there when they revealed themselves.  Word would get to them quickly enough.

After several minutes, Idi sent, They're all gone now. 

Lanari glanced at Corran.  "Spotted any possibilities yet?"

"There's two rival gangs in the back having an unfriendly game of darts.  We might provoke something there.  Or we could have one of the waitstaff spill something on the well-dressed cow over in the corner.  She's bound to take offense."

"A little iffy.  Let's go with the darts."  She shifted in her seat, hooking one arm over the back of her chair.  Her new position enabled her to get a good look at the game in the back.  She studied them for several minutes over the rim of her ale mug.  One team was losing badly, and they were not too pleased about it.  One of their players stepped up to throw her shots, her competitor standing just behind her shoulder ready to mock her throws.  Lanari narrowed her eyes and gave the pirate's elbow a Force nudge just as she released the dart.  The shot went wide, planting itself in the wall half a meter from the board.

Furious, she turned on the man standing behind her.  "You pushed me!" she growled.

"I did no such thing!" he protested.  

"You've been cheating this whole game, and now you're shoving me around."

"I don't have to cheat against a team as lousy as yours!"

The pirate stepped forward, pointing the dart in his face.  "How would you like me to stick this in your eye?"

"The way you throw, you'd miss."

A crowd began to gather around the gamers.  Lanari and Corran quickly slipped to the front.  Arguments and insults flew back forth between the two teams, and the crowd was looking forward to a real fight.  Perfect.

Lanari stepped up to the two who had started it, resting a hand on each of their shoulders and saying, "Take it easy now.  There's no need to fight over some silly game."

"Silly game?" the leader turned on her, enranged.  "I'll have you know I hold the all-time number three spot in the Khuiumin System."

"You only got it by cheating," his opponent launched.  "Too bad you don't cheat good enough to place first."

Lanari interposed herself between them, facing the loser.  "There's no call for that," she began.

The woman opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again as she took a closer look at Lanari.  "Hey, I know you," she announced in recognition.  "I tried to work for your outfit once.  You're the Dragon."

Instantly, a fearful and reverent hush fell over the crowd nearest the threesome.  The Dragon may have been retired for some time, but Lanari felt a certain satisfaction in knowing she could still inspire awe.  _This is unexpected._

"The Dragon?" someone from the crowd asked warily.  "_Jedi!"_

Instantly the crowd shrank back, hands reaching for weapons, as Lanari felt a wave of hostile alarm sweep over her through the Force.

_Oops, she swallowed.  __Here we go.  Slowly raising her hands, she announced, "Everyone just calm down.  I am only interested in the Eriadu Brigands.  I want no trouble with any of the rest of you."_

"Yeah, sure," an ugly pirate with a missing eye spat.  "First them, then the rest of us."

"I promise you, I only want the Brigands," Lanari reiterated.

"What good is the word of a traitor?"

The situation was rapidly getting out of hand.  "All right, look, we'll just leave," she announced, putting the conviction of the Force behind her words.  She wanted to avoid a fight if at all possible.

But she chose the wrong word.  "_'We'?  You mean there's more of you?"  They had apparently forgotten about Corran._

"There's just two of us," she reminded, "and we'll leave now."

"No, you'll die now, Jedi!"  A blaster fired, and was instantly answered by scores of others.  

But Lanari had already ignited her saber and caught the shots.  It took all her skill to deflect the many shots heading her way.  Some of the deflected bolts hit her attackers, but there were too many of them for Lanari to do much more than keep herself from getting hit.  Fortunately her back was to the wall, limiting their range of attack.

Corran slid into place next to her, his silver blade flashing.  "When you said, 'tip our hand,' I didn't know that meant pissing off everyone in the place."

"You weren't exactly offering any assistance, Horn," she muttered between clenched teeth.

"What now?" he shouted back over the sizzle of blaster bolts meeting saber blades.  "We've got 300 angry pirates between us and the door."

"Cut a hole in the wall behind us!"

Corran grunted.  "I can't get free!"

It was true.  With so many guns firing at them at such close range they could do nothing but defend themselves, no retreat or attack.  Lanari spared a glance around her to size up what she might be able to hurl at the pirates, but there were only tables and chairs, nothing really heavy or big enough to provide cover.  _Where the hell is Idi?  Not that the other Jedi could do much for them in this crowd._

The battle sounds in the restaurant were ripped asunder by a series of ear-splitting explosions as several bombs went off.  Run! the thought flashed in her brain.

"It's Idi!  Smoke bombs!"  Lanari called to Corran.  The pirates' attack momentarily halted as panic broke out at this new, unseen foe.  "Make a break for it!"

With superhuman speed, Lanari raced through the crowd, now doubling over from the thick, roiling smoke.  Her saber flashed at the occasional pirates who stepped into her path to cut off her escape, and before long she was out the door, Corran close on her heels.

"Idi!" she called out, without slacking her pace as she tore off down the street.

I'm out, Idi sent in reply.

"Split up and meet at the rendezvous!"  Lanari called.

Corran peeled away from her, ducking down a narrow alley.  Several pirates were still on Lanari's tail, but their shots went wild.  A speeder bike pulled up next to her and the driver took aim, but her saber easily blocked the shots.  She twisted into an alley, leaving herself momentarily out of view of her pursuers.  She leaped high up onto the roof of one of the buildings and quickly clattered across the tiles.  She heard shouts in the street below indicating she had been seen, but it would take them a few minutes to climb up after her.

She jumped agilely from roof to roof.  She could see people running in the streets below still in pursuit of her, but they couldn't keep up.  Behind her she heard several people on one of the roofs, but they could not follow her from building to building.  They fired at her, but in the dark she was rapidly becoming all but invisible.  Before too long she had vanished completely, melting into the shadowy night.

*****

In the earliest hours of the morning, as the night sky just began to fade, Lanari slipped into the hanger where their ship was stored.  As she approached, the hatch opened, and she saw Idi waiting inside.  "You all right?"  Lanari asked.

Idi nodded.  "I'm fine.  Corran's not back yet."

"He'll be along soon."  She smiled.  "The smoke bombs were brilliant.  I knew there was a reason I picked you for backup."

"Well, for a while there I thought we were all dead.  I commed Karrde when I got away and told them to be on the lookout."

"Perfect."  Lanari stifled a yawn.  "I think I'd better try to get some rest before Corran gets here."  Rather than head for the sleeping bunks, she went to the cockpit and settled into the co-pilot's chair, closing her eyes.

Sometime later she was roused from sleep by Idi's hand on her shoulder.  "Corran's here," she announced.

Lanari stood and stretched just as Corran entered the cockpit.  He raised his eyebrows at her.  "I'm out there running for my life, and you're taking a nap?"

Lanari laughed and shook her head.  "It just goes to show how much confidence I have in you."  She clasped his forearm.  "You were good out there."

"High praise indeed."  He meant it, too.  "Thanks."

"Now why don't we get out of here?"  Idi suggested.

Lanari glanced at Corran.  "You awake enough?"

"Frisky as ever," he pronounced, seating himself in the pilot's chair.  He flipped on the comm.  "_Nightwing to port control, requesting permission for takeoff."_

"One moment please, _Nightwing," replied the Controller._

Idi and Lanari strapped in as they waited for clearance.  The seconds slid by, and no reply was forthcoming.

"Uh-oh," Corran breathed.  He reached for the switch again, but control called in.  "Sorry about that, _Nightwing.  We've got a lot of air traffic right now.  You may take off in 20 minutes."_

"Copy that," Corran replied.  He switched off the comm and glanced over his shoulder at Lanari.

"Not good," Lanari said.

Idi's eyes snapped open in alarm.  "She's alerted security."

"Not good at all," Lanari repeated.  "Corran, get as out of here."

"Aye, Sir," he saluted.  His hands flew over the controls as the ship powered up.

The comm buzzed.  "_Nightwing, you are not cleared for takeoff."_

"Tell it to my afterburners," Corran replied.

"Power down or you will be fired upon!"

He switched off the comm.  "Everybody hang on!" he yelled as the ship began to lift.

Idi pointed out the window.  "They're here!" she cried as a stream of armed security entered the hanger.  They raised their weapons.

"Too late!"  Corran called.  The ship took a couple of hits, but with military strength shields, no hand-held weapons could penetrate their defenses.  The ship tilted and pointed its nose to the lightening sky.

Reading one of the scanners, Idi announced, "Cannons on the guard tower taking aim."

"No problem."  With skillful dexterity, Corran eluded the shots, and they were soon out of range.  Kate had to admit he was a good pilot.  She was about to compliment him when the ship abruptly dove to starboard.

"Incoming ships!" Idi called.

"How many?"  Lanari asked.

"Twenty.  No, thirty.  More coming …."

The pirates were coming after them.  "Sweet skywalkin' son of a Sith!"  Lanari swore.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Corran was shocked by her choice of epithet.  "Don't you think you should show our Master more respect?"

A light flashed across the canopy as their pursuers opened fire.  "He knows I mean it in a nice way," she dismissed.  "Idi, you're with me in the gun turrets.  CorSec, show us why Wedge Antilles ever let you fly with Rogue Squadron!"

"Copy that," Corran acknowledged as the two women unstrapped themselves and raced for the guns.

The ship bucked and twisted to avoid fire, but Lanari's steps were sure.  She threw herself into the swivel chair and immediately powered up the guns.  She sighted on a small freighter and took it out, then flipped on the comm.  "Corran, talk to me!  How soon to we can make the jump?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" was the angry reply.  "I'm too busy piloting to calculate a jump!"

She took out another ship then lined up another, but as fast as she got them, still more kept coming.  "Well, you'd better find time, 'cause we're never gonna fight them all off!"

"Sweet skywalkin' --" he started to swear.

"What was that about respect, CorSec?" she chided.

The ship lurched hard to port, and power flickered momentarily.

"Quit snoozing back there!" Corran scolded.  "Shields are down forty percent!"

Lanari's guns blazed away, as she knew Idi's were as well.  Fortunately the pirates were disorganized, but there were simply too many of them.  They were like a bantha plagued by a swarm of flies.  They could bat them away, but they'd keep coming back.

"More incoming!" Corran warned.

"Emperor's black bones," Lanari swore.

"That's better!" Corran called.

The laser fire almost blinded Lanari.  She closed her eyes and reached out with the Force, merging her consciousness with the guns.  Her eyes suddenly snapped open, even as a welcome voice hailed them over the comm.

"It looks like you people could use some help," drawled Talon Karrde.  "I should open a new line of business in rescuing Jedi."

"We'll gladly be your first customers," Corran returned.

Karrde's gunners were deadly accurate, and the _Nightwing sped toward them, clearing enough room to make a jump.  Just before they entered hyperspace, Lanari commed the__Wild Karrde.  "Did we get what we came for?"_

"We certainly did," came the reply.  "One stop, and then we're on to Pamylasia!"

And with that, the stars streaked around them and they blasted away to safety.

  
Chapter Thirty: Dream 

            The baby was tiny, so small she could cradle it in her cupped palm.  Fragile and helpless, the baby could easily fall through a crack in the floor, or be blown away by a breath of wind and disappear.  It would be so easy to lose the baby forever, but she had to protect it and keep it safe.  The baby talked to her, imparting wisdom and love.  It would reveal all the hidden secrets of the universe, and she wanted so to learn.  Her heart ached with tenderness and love for this most precious treasure.

            "Where is my father?" the baby asked, looking up at her with total trust.

            She turned to look behind her.  He had just been there.  Where had he gone?

            "Don't worry," she told the baby.  "I'll find him.  Hold on tight to me."  She placed the tiny being in her breast pocket and began to run through the ship, opening doors and searching halls.  It was the Jade's Fire, her old ship, the one that had been destroyed.  Someone had found it and repaired it, but the floor plan had been changed.  She became confused.

            "Where are you?" she called out. Her voice echoed back hollowly down the corridors. She could sense him, she knew he was near, but she didn't know where.

            Rounding a corner, she found a squadron of Imperial stormtroopers.  They saluted her as she approached and asked, "Do you know where my husband is?"

            "He's in the throne room," one of them replied.

            She ran through the hallways of the Imperial palace, dodging courtiers and black-clad officers. From her pocket, the baby said, "I'm frightened."

            "It will be all right," she answered.  "I know a secret way." She ducked into an alcove and pressed on a hidden panel.  A concealed door slid open, leading to a passageway that she had often used when in the service of the Emperor.

            The passageway was cold, and she could feel the baby shivering.  If she did not hurry, it would freeze.  "We're almost there," she said.

            At last she reached the throne room.  She stumbled through the door and ran up the steps to the throne which was turned away from her, looking out over the cityscape.

            "We made it," she said, reaching for her pocket.  But the baby was gone. The cold hand of fear squeezed her heart.  "Where is the baby?" she cried.

            "Don't worry, it is safe."  The throne swiveled to face her.  In it sat a figure shrouded in black. The figure held forth his hand, and she saw the baby curled up in his palm, but she could not tell if the baby were asleep or dead.

            "Luke?" she asked, uncertainly. 

            "He is gone," the figure answered, and she realized the hand that held the baby was shriveled and old.  Yellow eyes gleamed at her from the shadowed cowl. "I am your husband now," the Emperor told her, and he cackled with dry laughter, as he clutched the baby to his poisonous heart.

            Mara jerked awake, terror coursing through her body.  For several panicked moments the room looked entirely foreign and unfamiliar.  Then slowly she began to remember.  She was in the suite on Pamylasia.  She took several steadying breaths, then looked at the rumpled covers next to her.  Luke was not there.

            Fighting down her panic, telling herself it was left over from the nightmare, she got out of bed and went into the bathroom.  Snapping on the light, she leaned over the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing her face.  She looked up at the mirror, taking in her hollow eyes and sallow features.  _I'm even starting to look like the Emperor, she thought, and her stomach gave a nauseating lurch._

She had felt queasy most mornings for some time now, but she told herself it was from the stress of the trial.  She did not want to think about what else might be the cause, although the nausea had begun about the same time as her nightmare.

She left the bathroom and entered the living room.  Silhouetted against the window, Luke stood with his back to her, watching the sunrise cast its saffron colors over the city of Endirion.  _Just like the dream, she thought, and shivered._

Luke turned, and for a moment Mara thought she had spoken out loud.  He smiled.  "I'm sorry I didn't wake you up, but it's still pretty early and I thought you could use the sleep."

_And you couldn't?  "That's all right."  She padded across the room to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder as they both watched the sun slowly work its way over the horizon._

"I'm always expecting the other sun to follow," Luke mused, "but it never does."

Mara pressed her forehead into the back his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin, still musky from sleep.  She gently kissed the nape of his neck, then said, "Maybe we should skip the test this week."  He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.  "It's just that it's been negative so far, and it's starting to feel obsessive."

"Sure," he agreed.  "We don't have to if you don't want to."

His tone was agreeable and supportive, but Mara felt guilty anyway.  "Or we can do test and you could look at the results."

He turned in her arms to face her.  "Hey.  We decided from the beginning we were doing this together.  So we either both look, or we don't do it."

Ducking her head to avoid his gaze Mara replied, "All right, all right.  That was the plan, let's stick to it."

"We don't have to," he offered again.

She looked up at him.  "No, it's all right."

He searched her face for several seconds, and when he was sure she meant it, he nodded.  "I'll start breakfast then."  He kissed her forehead then released her and headed toward the small kitchen, while Mara returned to the bedroom to set up the pregnancy test.  She reemerged several minutes later, testing device in hand, still incubating in its protective sheath.  She set it on the table and fell hungrily to her breakfast.  Luke watched her silently, stirring his cereal, then ventured, "Do you think --"

"No," she quickly interrupted, then realized she hadn't even waited to hear his question.  But she knew what he had been about to ask.  She amended, "I don't know.  I just think all this stress is getting to me.  That's all."

Luke merely nodded, perfectly willing to drop the subject.  They would know soon enough anyway.  They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.

When they had finished the meal, Luke asked, "Are you ready to check it?"

Frowning, Mara closed her eyes and massaged her temples, struggling to summon her courage.  Every time they taken the pregnancy test before she had been eager to see the results.  Even as the test had proven negative each time, she had not been discouraged.  Somehow this weekly ritual had become a private ceremony for them, a moment when they could forget their troubled situation and dream about a new future.  But her nightmares now threatened to destroy that dream.  Silly, though, to let any nightmare trouble her so deeply.

With a sigh, she looked up.  "I'm ready."

Wordlessly, Luke came around the table.  She made room for him on her chair, and he picked up the pregnancy indicator and pulled off its cover.

Positive.

Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, they sat in shocked silence.  Mara's heart shrank and crumbled even as she felt Luke's spirits soar.  Contrary to what she had told Luke, and even what she told herself, she had thought -- she had _known -- the result would be positive.  Even so, the confirmation of it somehow took her by surprise.  She realized she had been hoping this time it would be negative.  Her desire to have a baby was inextricably bound to her fear that she would lose Luke, and by now the two issues seemed inseparable.  As long as she was not pregnant, she believed Luke would not leave her, but now…._

Beside her Luke had not moved, staring at the indicator in his hand.  He slowly released the breath he had been holding in.  "Wow," he said simply.  He shifted to look at Mara, suddenly aware of the conflicting emotions emanating from her.  The thought occurred to him that perhaps Mara wasn't as eager for motherhood as she had let on.  "Are you --," he almost said "happy," then realized how bad it would sound if she weren't.  "-- okay?" he finished lamely.

Tenderness filled her aching heart, the same tenderness she felt for the baby in her dream.  "Yes," she hesitated.  "It's just --."  Along with the tenderness came the uncertainty, the fear.  She threw her arms around Luke's neck, clinging to him as tightly as to the baby in her dream.  It was Luke who was the fragile one, the one she was afraid to lose, the one who taught her all the mysteries of love.  She cried, "I want this baby to have a father!"

Stunned, Luke held on to her, finally understanding all Mara's hopes and fears.  "I do, too," he whispered.  He let her cry, and she let him hold her.  No more running away, no more hiding, and no more denial.  Eventually, Mara's crying subsided.  With a final shudder, she wiped her nose and pulled back.

Cradling her face in his hands, Luke said, "I fully intend to be there for the baby and for you.  But if that's not to be, then… we'll deal with that when the time comes."  He smiled, "Meanwhile, we've got a baby to plan for."

"We've got to come up with names."

Luke brightened.  "If it's a boy, I think we should name him --."

"No," Mara contradicted, pressing her finger to Luke's slips.  "Not Ben.  Or Biggs or Owen or even Luke, Jr.  This baby has a future.  We owe it to him to leave him free to live that future unburdened by our past."

Luke considered.  He had long dreamed of naming his son after his first teacher, the man who had started him on the journey that had brought to this place.  But Mara had a point.  He, of all people, knew what it was like to be burdened by past hopes.  "All right," he agreed.  "But why do you say 'him'?  It might be a girl."

"No Berus, either.  Although I would consider Mara, Jr."

"I think the galaxy can handle only one at a time."

Mara grew serious again.  "Luke, let's not tell anyone yet.  Let's keep it our secret for now."

He nodded.  "Okay."

"Thanks."  She grinned and added, "Daddy."

The name brought tears of joy to Luke's eyes.  He had waited a lifetime to hear it.  He reached out and pulled her to him, but before he could say anything, a furious pounding exploded on the chamber door.  Before either of them could respond, the door was thrown open and Anath rushed in, so excited he didn't notice their intimate embrace.

"Luke, Mara!" he called, breathless.  "Sorry to wake you so early, but Lanari just called.  They're about to land with Karrde -- and they have the pirates who kidnapped you!"


	11. The End

Author's note:  Ack!  It's hard to believe the story's final over!  Thank you all for sticking with it and for your wonderful comments, and for letting me revisit it by posting it.  This was the first fanfic I wrote since I was a kid, and I am rather proud of it.

Chapter Thirty-one: Testimony

News of the pirates' capture threw Pamylasia into a frenzy.  The growing sentiment that Luke was at most only one player in a larger scheme now grew into widespread indignation that nothing had been done previously to get to the bottom of the conspiracy.  The entire planet waited with bated breath to hear what new evidence the pirates could provide.

Luke's defense team immediately requested that his trial be suspended until the authorities took a statement from the pirates, as their testimony had a direct bearing on Luke's case.  The prosecution protested the request, but to no end.  The judge was eager to hear what the pirates had to say.  The police quickly reached an agreement with them.  In exchange for their full cooperation in Luke's trial and in identifying who hired them, they would receive a more lenient sentence.  Without a bargain, they faced the death penalty.  But Karrde was proved right.  No mercenaries will hold their tongues when they can assign blame to someone else.  So within days after capture, the leader of the Eriadu Brigands, Naima Parvassi, took the stand in behalf of the defense, presenting the first hard evidence in a trial that to that point had presented little in the way of fact.  Some people declared that businesses on Pamylasia might as well take a day off, as everyone on the planet crowded around vid screens to watch the trial.

After Apurta had established the basics, that Parvassi was indeed the head of the Eriadu Brigands, a pirate gang for hire, she proceeded to the specifics.  "Was in fact your gang hired to abduct Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade with the aim of forcing Skywalker to assassinate Dimishaneer Akeeno?"

Parvassi shifted in her chair.  Her short, spiked hair was dyed jet black, and her face was hard, lined with years of rough living and scarred with evidence of countless barroom fights.  Even dressed in a prison uniform, she cut a lawless figure, and she was clearly accustomed to being in command.  She knew how to cooperate, however, when it was to her advantage, as it was now.  "Yes, we were," she announced, her voice strong and confident.

A collective gasp rippled out across the galaxy at the proclamation.

"Tell us, please, how you came to be involved in this plot," Apurta asked.

Parvassi sneered at the word "please."  "We were contracted by an agent working in behalf of an unknown person or persons who wanted Akeeno dead.  They're the ones that came up with the idea of having Skywalker do it.  They supplied us with all kinds of helpful information on how to capture and keep a Jedi, including those damned yasi-salamanders or whatever they are.  They supplied us with special drugs for controlling him and everything.  They wanted to use drugs to get him to kill her, but I had my doubts that would work.  I have experience was some of those mind control drugs, and the better they work, the more they impair the abilities of the person you're trying to control.  Skywalker's a Jedi and has quite a reputation for mind control, so I knew if we used enough drugs to control him, we'd probably also kill him."

"So what did you do?"

Parvassi puffed up a bit, looking proud.  "Well, I always do my homework, which is why we're the best.  I did research and learned that the one foolproof way of getting to Skywalker is to threaten people he loves.  This has been demonstrated time and time again.  Of course, in most of those cases he managed to weasel his way out, but that's because most people don't know how to handle a Jedi.  But the people who hired us had the knowledge and the money to get us what we needed, and I was determined not to make any mistakes and let him get the upper hand.

"Now, everybody knows Skywalker recently got married.  The whole galaxy was bombarded with this sappy love story of 'friends for ten years who finally confessed their love' and all that crap.  And newlyweds are always dewey-eyed for that first year or so, so I figured his wife would be his weakest spot.  That's the plan I hatched: threaten her to get to him."

"Skywalker has stated that you only threatened his wife and planned not to kill him," Apurta stated.  "Why not?"

Parvassi shrugged.  "There are two kinds of people: those who will sell out anybody in order to save their own hides, and those who will take any risk themselves, but the minute you threaten an innocent, you've got them in the palm of your hand.  Skywalker's the latter.  What would be the point of killing him if he didn't cooperate?  But if we only killed his wife he'd have to live with the guilt, and I was willing to bet he couldn't deal with that.  After all, he's still mooning over Darth Vader.  I turned out to be right."

The words were harsh but true, as Apurta herself knew well.  She continued, "Why wasn't it Skywalker you tortured in order to get to Mara Jade?"

"We could have done that," Parvassi agreed.  "We talked about it.  But our client really wanted Skywalker.  He seemed to think only Skywalker could pull it off.  Maybe he was right, maybe he was wrong.  After all, Jade used to be the Emperor's Hand and has done her time as a pirate herself.  She certainly knows a thing or two about assassination.  But I wasn't sure about her.  Was she the kind to save her own skin, or would she cave in to a threat to Skywalker?  She's not exactly sentimental.  I never really understood why she married him in the first place.  Maybe she just did it for kicks, and if we threatened him she'd just thank us for the favor."

Mara fumed at these words and would have loved nothing more than to leap across the courtroom and strangle the pirate with her bare hands.  Her restraint had less to do with Jedi beliefs about the dark side than with the knowledge that murdering Parvassi really wouldn't help Luke's case.

"So I couldn't be sure about her," Parvassi concluded.  "But Skywalker is an open book.  No problem."

Apurta next had Parvassi describe how she and the Brigands had captured Luke and Mara.  The pirate reported all the details Luke had described before, right down to the details of rotating shifts of guards and the ropes used to bind him.  She also described their plan of torture, going beyond what Mara had actually experienced to describe exactly how they had planned to kill her.  The testimony was so graphic, several people had to leave the courtroom, they became so unnerved.

After all the details of the capture and assassination had been reviewed, Apurta observed, "You seem to have had quite detailed information about security at the Presidential Palace.  Did you research that yourself, or did your client provide you with the information?"

"He gave it to me, but of course I checked it out.  He was thorough, though, and completely accurate."

"So your client must have had access to an inside source?"

"My guess is someone who once worked security there, maybe still did.  All I know is, you only get that level of detail and accuracy from the inside.  No way you can discover it all from the outside."

"Do you have any idea who hired you?"

Parvassi shook her head.  "None at all.  Of course anonymity was part of the bargain, but I tried to find out anyway for my own security, you understand.  But we couldn't find out, not even the identity of the contact.  He used a code name, Hamarinn.  That's all we knew, so we called it 'the Hamarinn project.'  But we never learned who it was."

At the name, several people in the audience gasped and began murmur.  The pirate noticed and said, "Do you know who he is?"

Apurta nodded thoughtfully.  "The name comes from a rather obscure old legend known to one of the peoples of Pamylasia.  He is a mythical hero, a bat known for his wisdom and keen intelligence.  He saves the day many times and proves that wisdom is stronger than might."

Parvassi laughed.  "Well, I don't know about that, but the fellow I dealt with was no bat."

"Perhaps the name will lead somewhere, and perhaps not," Apurta conceeded.  Then she looked to the judge.  "I have no further questions, Your Honor."

The prosecution now approached the witness for cross-examination.  "You say you never intended to harm Skywalker."

Parvassi nodded.  "That's correct."

"Are you certain you had him controlled, or do you think there was a chance he could have escaped if he wanted?"

"Objection!" Apurta announced.  "Speculation."

The judge considered.  "I'll allow it," she decided.  "Overruled."

Parvassi looked to the prosecuting attorney.  "I suppose he might have gotten away.  After all, he's not just any Jedi, and no plan can be fool proof.  But we were very thorough in our security."

"And you never intended to kill him?  Even though he might have identified you later?"

She shrugged again.  "I was pretty careful, and I'd take the chance of him finding me.  I'm not defenseless, after all, and I still had those Force salamanders."

"You sound very confident in your ability to…negotiate what you wanted with him."

"Like I said, Skywalker is an open book.  You don't have to look hard to figure out what his weakness is.  You just have to control the context.  I mean, I never laid a finger on him, and we didn't do anything too bad to his wife.  We didn't have to."

"You make it sound as if you were striking a bargain."

"Yeah," Parvassi agreed.  "That's what it was, really.  Maybe a bit of extortion, but not too bad.  We just set it all up, and he agreed to it.  As simple as that."

The prosecuting attorney evidently agreed.  "No further questions, Your Honor."

The judge turned to Parvassi, "Then you may step down."

She was dismissed, but not free.  A phalanx of guards shackled the pirate and let her back to prison. As part of her plea bargain she would receive no trial.  As for the man she had captured, his fate was still to be decided.

_  
_

Chapter Thirty-two: Truth

Aajulon switched off the vid screen, stunned.  He felt ill, not only from what he had heard in the pirate's testimony but from what it meant.  The image of Prem Nivas' crest came back to him: four bats, "…given to me as an expression of gratitude for all my years of service to the Barons."  Hamarinn!  The crest was hardly proof, but still he knew Prem Nivas was the pirates' contact.  Prem Nivas, who was digging up evidence to link Antiradu Akeeno to his wife's murder.  Digging up evidence, or more likely manufacturing it to point away from the true conspirators.  And he had played right into their hands.

What should he do now?  The Barons must have been watching as well, and now they knew he knew.  What might they do to him if he reported his knowledge to the police?  They would abandon his candidacy for certain, but that was the least of Aajulon's worries.  No, far more was at stake here than the presidential election.  They would not want their secret to be revealed.  Aajulon shuddered.  They would not _let it be revealed.  Perhaps Nivas was on his way to visit Aajulon even now…._

But what if Aajulon held his tongue?  After all, what did he really have to report?  That he knew of a man who admired the Hamarinn legend?  Many people did.  The police might not even take him seriously.  Most likely "Prem Nivas" didn't even exist.  Aajulon probably would accomplish nothing by giving them the name, and they would be certain to ask how he had met the man.  The press would hear of it, Aajulon's nonexistent suspect whom he met while sharing a brandy with the Barons.  His career would be over for certain.

His career was over either way, but his life might be finished as well if he acted imprudently.  After all, it was the police's job to track down the lead, not his.  Perhaps other people had met "Hamarinn" as well.  The man couldn't possibly be as cunning as his namesake, and someone else might come forward to reveal his identity.  What did Aajulon owe Luke Skywalker to help him in his case?  The fact still remained that Skywalker was the one who actually killed Akeeno.  It wasn't as if Aajulon would be risking his neck to help an innocent man.  As for the other guilty parties… well, surely they would be discovered without Aajulon's assistance.  There was no need for him to risk their ire, to risk their vengeance.  Perhaps they would remain hidden forever, and if Aajulon kept his mouth shut he would be safe.  Or the police might discover enough clues to lead them to the Barons, and if he had kept quiet there would be no need for them to exact payment from him.

Or perhaps they would set him up in order to escape justice themselves.  Perhaps if he revealed any knowledge of Hamarinn, they would claim Aajulon was the one who had hired him.  After all, the Barons still had many friends among the police force, friends who were experienced in framing and imprisoning innocent people -- people like Dimi Akeeno and countless thousands of others no less innocent and no less brave who had disappeared forever, their fate as unknown as their names.

Aajulon remembered the day well when Akeeno had walked free from her twenty-year prison, thinner than she had been when she went in, certainly with more grey hair, but still proud and dignified.  Her prison sentence might have broken many a strong spirit, but it had only temper hers, refining her into something pure and strong.  He remembered the speech she gave upon her release.  She did not forget or ignore the injustice done to her, but with a surprising lack of bitterness she looked beyond it to describe a day with all people of Pamylasia would be free.  She vowed to do all she could to bring that day about, and when free elections were authorized and she announced her candidacy, it was to Aajulon she had turned to find a partner in this great endeavor.  He who had never known prison, who had survived by walking a careful line between appeasing the Barons and seeking greater freedom.

Aajulon's class of people had fared better under the Barons then Dimi's worker class.  The Barons needed merchants in order to handle and arrange their business.  In exchange the merchants were given certain privileges.  One might call them "freedoms," except they were not free at all.  One false move, or even for nothing at all except the whim of a Baron, and the merchants could have their property and business confiscated, their privileges revoked.

Aajulon's mother had been ruined, driven into bankruptcy and an early grave all because she had protested a tax the Barons desired to levy on her workers.  Aajulon had learned from his mother's experience, and he had vowed never to let himself be compromised to the Barons.  He had always dealt with them on his own terms.  He had never let himself become beholden to them, nor allowed himself to become involved in any plot of theirs that he knew to be wrong.

So why was he considering giving into them now?  And in such an egregious way?  His mother would not want him to be cowardly.  She had lost everything trying to protect her workers, and she never regretted it, so how could he consider selling out now?

Chagrined, Aajulon realized he had allowed himself to be corrupted by the Barons.  They had once again offered him not freedom but the illusion of it.  If exposure of his complicity brought him to ruin, then he had brought it upon himself, but he would not turn his mistake into an injustice.

With a heavy heart but a clear conscience, he called the Chief of Security.  When Bopolur answered, Aajulon said, "I might know who this Hamarinn is.  I can't be certain, but it is worth investigating."

_  
_

Chapter Thirty-three: The Wait

Shortly after Naima Parvassi's testimony, the defense rested its case. The prosecution, following Pamylasian custom, made their closing argument first, a rather long-winded rehashing of what amounted to a character assasination of Luke.  The one benefit to their long-windedness was that Leia and the children arrived in time to hear the defense's closing argument, which once again made frequent reference to Akeeno's support of sapient rights and liberally referred to the Eriadu Brigand's abuse of those rights.  At the conclusion, the jury was sequestered to debate their verdict, and there was nothing anyone else could do but wait.

Fortunately the presence of the children provided some check agasinst the anxiety that might have mounted in the adults otherwise.  The time was filled with games and jokes.  The children saw it as their responsibility to keep Luke cheered and entertained, and they succeeded well in their purpose.  They brought enough enthusiasm and ideas to last at least a month without break.

But they did not have to wait that long.  The jury deliberated less than a day before announcing they had reached a verdict.  The judge notified everyone that the court would reconvene the following morning.

The speed with which the jury reached their verdict did not bode well for Luke.  In the face of such sobering news even the children could not fully restore the good humor. They had planned a talent show for the evening's entertainment and everyone was prepared to make an offering, but before that each of then needed some time to prepare themselves for the next day.

The hour before dinner was deathly quiet in the house.  No one was heard or even seen, as each found a place of retreat.  Luke had early on claimed the roof as his refuge.  There was a patio on the roof of one wing of the house, probably the site of picnics and sunbathing when the previous owner lived there.  Luke liked it because it lifted him up above most of the trees where he could see almost all of the sky.  On Tatooine, the sky had always been his source of comfort and strength.  When he had felt hemmed in by his life, the sky beckoned to him as an infinite expanse of possibilities.  When he grieved or felt lonely, the night's stars would look down upon him with millions of comforting eyes.  It had disturbed him to discover how little of the sky could be seen on some planets, hemmed in as it often was by trees, mountains, and buildings.  Luke had grown up under a full sky that stretched to the horizon in all directions, and other worlds often made him feel claustrophobic.  Even on the rooftop he could not see all the sky, but enough of it expanded above him to give his soul room to stretch and breathe.  To him prison meant an eternal roof over his head.

He emptied his mind of thoughts and concentrated on watching the sky's colors shift and melt as the sun inched its way toward the horizon.  The trees on the compound muffled the sounds from the street and the surrounding houses, and he could almost imagine he was alone.  Straddling the balustrade, he leaned his head back against a pillar and gave himself over to the sky.  Even if he had not been given his name at birth, he would have well earned it.

He had lost all track of time when he heard footsteps approaching.  He didn't have to look to know it was Leia.  She stopped just inside his line of vision and asked, "Is it all right if I join you?"

He nodded and she moved closer, taking his hand in hers.  They watched the sunset in silence, until the colors began to fade.

At last Luke spoke.  "That could be my last sunset."

Leia compulsively squeezed his hand but remained silent.

"It's hard to know how to approach tonight," he continued.  "It could be the last time I'm with everyone, or it could turn out to be just another evening in a lifetime of evenings."

Leia absorbed this, then ventured, "The Force hasn't shown you what will happen tomorrow?"

Luke shook his head.  "It doesn't quite work like that.  I have never been able to read the future when I wanted.  The vision comes to me on its own, usually when there is something specific I have to do, and the meaning is never clear until after the event has happened.  Anyway, you have to be calm and centered to see anything, and I'm definitely not in such a state."

Leia wished she knew what to say, but as had become common over the last few months, she could find no words to comfort or support.  She had to fall back on the obvious.  "We'll know soon enough."

With a grim smile Luke agreed, "Yes.  Whether I live or die."

"That's a little melodramatic," rebuked Leia.  "It's highly unlikely they'll give you the death penalty."

"For killing their President?" Luke contradicted sharply.  "I don't think it's unlikely at all."

Leia shook her head.  "Even if they did, there would be tremendous pressure for clemency.  Intergalactic opinion has turned in your favor, and Pamylasia will ignore it at their own peril.  If they insist on the death sentence, they will become a pariah.  Most likely they would commute the sentence to life imprisonment, and pressure would continue until eventually the sentence would be further reduced or you would be pardoned."

Unconvinced, Luke said, "I doubt that."

"It's not as unlikely as you might think," Leia observed.  "Where there is life there is always hope.  Just be thankful this is no longer the Empire."

"If this were the Empire, I would be justified in escaping!" Luke retorted, his frustration exploding.  "But this isn't the Empire.  This is supposedly a free and fair society.  So why am I facing execution for saving my wife?  I have played the scene over and over in my mind, and as much as I hate the way it turns out, I don't see how I could have done anything differently.  Even having caught the pirates, they are no closer to finding who really wanted Akeeno dead.  I could have been looking for them, but instead I'm the one on trial.  It's not right, and yet there's nothing I can do about it."

"No, it's not right, nor is it fair.  And yet the process is free.  It just goes to show that even in a free society we are never completely in control of our lives.  Justice is in the end only an idea.  A good idea, but not really something that is real."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"  Luke fumed.

"No," Leia confessed.  "No, it's not an excuse or a justification or even an explanation.  It is merely a recognition that despite our best efforts tragedy is a part of life."

Luke fumed in silence, his tortured emotions, barely held in check over the past weeks, now threatening to boil over in helpless rage.  "I never realized you were such a pessimist."

"How can I not be, after what happened to my home?  I used to believe in justice when I was a mere child in the Senate.  I thought I could change life itself, right all wrongs, end all oppression.  But during the war I realized how much luck really dictates the course of our lives.  Why did some die while others lived?  Alderaan was destroyed because I happened to be the one captured.  If it had been Mon Mothma, another world would have suffered.  What does justice have to do with the fact that I wish she had been sent to Raltiir instead of me?  That I wish any other world had been destroyed instead of Alderaan?"

Her outburst was so unexpected, for a moment Luke forgot his own troubles.  "I had no idea you felt that way.  That's not how you talk."

"Of course not.  If I'm going to lead people I can't be talking about how grim things really are.  They already know that.  But what I say is not a lie.  I do believe in justice.  It's simply that life is something different.  Much of what we suffer has little to do with justice at all."

"And yet you still fight," Luke remarked.

"Yes, and so do you.  No matter how much I wish Alderaan still existed, I would not acted differently, nor would you, no matter how much you wish you hadn't killed Akeeno.  In the end what truly defines us is whether we have let love rule our lives, or whether we have given in to hate."

"How very Jedi," Luke observed bitterly.  "It sounds so shallow to me now, and yet I know it's the only truth in this whole story.  I guess we'll just have to see whether the jury feels the same way."

She wrapped her arm around his waist, projecting a confidence she did not exactly feel.  "And whatever they decide, we'll deal with it.  For now we should live the way we used to during the war."

"Take each day as it comes," Luke supplied, "and worry about tomorrow when it gets here.  Yes, that does seen fitting.  Back then we all faced the death sentence."

"And we managed to elude it," Leia pointed out, smiling against his shoulder.

For several minutes Luke was content merely to hold Leia, drawing strength from her.  They enjoyed a special intimacy now that Luke would never have presumed during the first years he had known her.  Ironically, it had only been when Leia had declared her love for Han that Luke had finally felt comfortable expressing his love for her.  The subsequent discovery that they were twins had only lent a publicly acceptable name to a unique relationship that had been cemented during Han's imprisonment.  His love for her had never ended, it merely metamorphosized into something new.  It even colored his relationship to Mara, something his saucy wife endlessly teased him about.

Mara still had not given him permission to tell anyone their big secret, but Luke felt he owed it to Leia to tell her.  "I'm not supposed to say anything yet," he began, "so you must promise me you'll tell no one."

Leia raised her head and looked at him.  "I promise."

A happy grin spread across Luke's face.  "You're going to be an aunt."

She reflected his smiled back.  "Oh, Luke!  I've always dreamed of being an aunt."

"Sure," Luke agreed.  "You get all the pleasures of a new baby without having to change all those diapers."

"I don't know.  Being an uncle didn't keep you from changing diapers."

"Yes, but no one can be as doting an uncle as me."

"True enough.  But neither is anyone as doting as your niece and nephews.  Why don't we go in and let them dote on you some more?"

"That sounds like an excellent plan."

They headed back inside, resolved to enjoy the present and not worry about the future with all its potential joys and sorrows.  They would know soon enough.

_  
_

Chapter Thirty-four: The Verdict

The sun rose that morning the same way it always rose, its all-seeing eye indifferent to the fate of the tiny lives crawling within its sight.  The sun rose and set as it had for billions of years, and yet to the people on that planet and on many others this day would be different.

Luke had hardly slept at all the previous night, nor had anyone else, though they pretended they had.  Their glassy-eyed state over breakfast had as much to do with anxiety about the next few hours as with the lack of rest.  Small talk seemed pointless, so no one said anything as they mechanically swallowed their breakfast.

Even the children were quiet, though not idle.  The three of them huddled together in a corner of the room, whispering among themselves, occasionally running into the bedroom for something, and only approaching the table to refill their plates.  Their appetites had certainly not suffered.

Finally the three of them approached Luke, standing in a line next to his chair, their hands folded behind their backs. Jaina, their official spokesperson, announced, "Uncle Luke, you shouldn't worry about anything.  If they find you guilty, we have a plan.  We'll start a petition and get a million signatures.  Then they'll have to let you go."

Jacen produced several sheets of paper from behind his back.  "See?  We already started writing down all the people we could think of who we'll ask to sign the petition."  He handed the pages to Luke, leaning against his uncle's shoulder to point out features of the list.  "We have forty-three listed so far, but it's really a lot more people.  For example, we said 'all the Jedi' and 'the Senate' and 'Dad's and Chewie's friends.'  So it's a long list already."

"And I'll get everyone at school to sign it!" Anakin offered.

Luke put his arm around Jacen and smiled gratefully.  "Thanks, kids.  It really means a lot to me.  I know I have nothing to worry about.  Still I hope the petition won't be necessary."

"So do we," Jaina answered, "but we thought we should have a plan just in case."

Mara observed, "I've seen the three of you go up against your mother and get your way.  If you can get Leia to change her mind against her will, then no one else stands a chance against you."

For several minutes the group's spirits lifted as they finally found a safe topic of conversation: the children's exploits.  The children themselves didn't understand why they had suddenly become the center of attention, but with the vanity of youth, they didn't mind.

At last Anath had to break up the party.  "It's about time we got going."  His words punctured their levity, and final preparations were conducted in silence.

The kids squeezed into Luke's speeder, Anakin on his lap, and Jaina and Jacen on either side of him.  There was no question about them going.  There was no way they would have stayed home.

Luke's entourage had now grown to quite a large number, filling three rows of seats in the courtroom.  Luke tried to act as if it were just another day, until it came time for him to take his place at the defendant's desk with his lawyers.  The children clung to his knees, threatening to dissolve into tears, until Leia pulled them away and whispered to them to be brave for their uncle.  Luke hung on to Mara as if he couldn't let go.  His need gave her momentary strength.  She kissed him on the cheek, then gently extricated herself from his embrace, favoring him with such a saucy wink he couldn't help but smile, however briefly.

When the lawyers for both prosecution and defense had settled in, the jury was called in, followed immediately by the judge.  No one in Luke's party could bear to look at the jury except Han, who finally worked up the courage.  Every single one of them had their eyes studiously fixed on the judge, and Han could read nothing in their expressions.  He turned to look behind him at the faces in the courtroom.  It was standing room only.  No surprise. He glanced up into the balcony and saw that both presidential candidates were present.  Radu Akeeno appeared surprisingly composed, but everyone else wore the anxiously expectant expression of people waiting to learn if their nearest relative had cancer.

The judge was asking the jury if they had reached a verdict.  Han thought it was a stupid question.  Of course they had, or none of them would be here right now.  The jury confirmed that they had, and the judge turned to Luke.  "Would the defendant please rise and face the jury?"

Luke took a deep breath and stood up with Counselor Apurta at his side.  He looked at the members of the jury with an expression of calm resolve that he did not feel.  None of them, he noticed, returned his gaze, their attention reserved entirely for the judge.

The head of the jury stood and read from a sheet of paper in her hands, as if she would forget her short speech.  "In the case of the People of Pamylasia versus Luke Skywalker, we unanimously find the defendant not guilty."  

The ensuing noise in the courtroom melted away from Luke's ears.  His hopes and fears were so great that for a moment he could not understand what the jury had just said.  He turned to Apurta and whispered, "What did they say?" unable even to understand the smile on her face.

"Not guilty," she whispered back, as the judge hammered away with her gavel, trying to restore order.  "They found you not guilty.  It's all over."

The chaos in the room barely penetrated Luke's consciousness as Apurta's words slowly seeped into his brain.  He never heard the judge announce the case closed, nor did he see her brief, enigmatic smile in his direction.  Still uncertain what to think or feel, half expecting to wake up from the dream, he was suddenly pounced upon and buried beneath all his friends and relatives.  "Happy birthday, happy birthday," Mara sang out cryptically, her breath tickling his cheek.  "You can name him Ben if you want to, you silly old farmer."

Somehow over the racket Han heard her.  "Name who Ben?" he asked.

Leia kissed him happily.  "The day's news isn't over yet, dearest!" she grinned.

Indeed the day had only just begun.  They still had to face the crowd outside and Pamylasia's reaction.  Luke would have to make a statement to the press, no doubt the first of many in response to the verdict and the trial.  His future was by no means certain at this point.  His life had changed irrevocably, and things could never go back to the way they were.  In some ways he could hardly even say he was truly free now, for in the eyes of many he was still guilty.  Many possibilities remained closed to him, perhaps forever.  But through all the confusion and fog in his mind, one fact stood out: he was not in prison.  He was free in the most important ways: to be with Mara, to see their baby born, to be a father, a husband, an uncle, and a brother once more.  That was all that truly mattered.

Months of anguish and regret melted away as Luke's heart swelled with happiness until his body could no longer contain it.  His heart escaped and flew high above the crowds gathered to hear the verdict, up past the roof of the courthouse, and out to the morning sun.

  
Epilogue 

A number of months later, life was back to normal in the Organa Solo household.  It was bath night, and Han had just finished getting the kids clean and packed off to bed.  The children were certainly old enough to bathe themselves, but they still enjoyed having Han supervise and wash their hair for them.  They insisted he was much more gentle at hair washing than their mother.  Bathtime usually involved Han getting wetter than all three of the children put together, but he didn't mind.  He enjoyed the tasks of fatherhood.  While this side of him had surprised many of his friends, the truth was Corellians loved their children, and he knew they would grow up all too soon.

Exhausted -- he was getting old, too, Han reflected sourly -- his pruning fingers just beginning to dry out, Han lay on the bed supposedly watching a movie, but in fact dozing off as he waited for Leia to come home.  Although Leia never neglected her family, Han would be glad when her term of office ended.  He missed her.

The soft swish of the outside door opening roused Han from his drowsiness, but he pretended to lie sleeping.  He heard Leia kicking off her shoes in the next room and padding barefoot across the carpet to lean over him and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.  With an enormous yawn, he stretched and then grabbed her, pulling her laughing onto the bed next to him.

"Long day at the office, Princess?" he asked.

She made a face.  "You don't know the half of it."

"Nor do I want to hear about it."

"It was all the usual boring political stuff anyway."

"Maybe I ought to kidnap you and run off with you, the way Luke and Mara did," he suggested.  "Then maybe I'd occasionally see you before dinner."

"Sometimes I wish you would," she answered, running her finger along the scar on his chin.

"Nah, you'd miss the politics," he contradicted.  "In the meantime, why don't you let your hair down?"

"Sounds wonderful."  She sat up and began pulling pins out of her hair as Han got the hairbrush.  Seating himself behind her he brushed out her long hair, his favorite grooming task of all, and one which Leia fortunately would never out grow.

He ran the brush through her hair until it shone like silk, the long strokes relaxing her and brushing away all the day's troubles.  Han was about to move on to Phase Two, in which Leia's hair invariably got messed up again, when the bedroom door chimed and C-3PO exclaimed from outside, "Mistress Leia!  Mistress Leia!"

"Come in, Threepio," she called, as Han leaned back with a frustrated grunt.

The door slid open and Threepio apologized, "I am so sorry to disturb you so late, but another encrypted call for you has arrived from that Stardreamer person."

Instantly Han and Leia both perked up.  "Thank you, Threepio," Leia said.  "Patch the call on through to the bedroom, would you?"

Somewhat miffed, the droid complained fussily, "I do wish you'd let me know who this person is.  His calls may not always warrant disturbing you, and I know you've had a long day --"

"No, Threepio, it's all right," Leia assured him, stationing herself at the comm.  They had not told him "Stardreamer" was the code name for Luke and Mara because he would be unable to keep the secret.  "You should always interrupt us for this call."

With this gentle reprimand, Threepio excused himself to patch the call through.  When he left, Han moved closer to Leia.  "About time they called," he grumbled.  "It's been ages, and the baby's getting due."

"Maybe the baby's already here.  Perhaps that's why they're calling," Leia speculated, even as the image of Luke and a still very pregnant Mara appeared on the screen.  Leia wasn't sure which was the bigger shock each time they called: the sight of Mara in such an advanced maternal state, or the sight of Luke with black hair and a beard.

"Impeccable timing, as always," Han observed to the two familiar strangers beaming at them from the screen.

Before Luke could answer, Leia rebuked, "I'm disappointed I'm not an aunt yet."

"Sorry," Mara replied, "but there are some things I just don't have control over."

"Have you given in yet and found out whether it's a girl or a boy?"

Mara shook her head.  "No way.  There are few enough good surprises in life.  We're waiting for this one."

Leia let it drop, although she failed to see what difference it made knowing before or after the birth.  Either way it was a surprise.  Of course, Leia had known her children's sex through her Force sense, but Mara did not seem to have that particular ability, and if Luke did, he was keeping quiet about it.

"We've just finished another project for Karrde," Luke was saying.  

"I don't suppose you can give us a hint?" Han inquired.

Luke laughed, "Now, you know our employer would fire us if we gave information away for free.  Nevertheless, Leia, you might want to contact Karrde about it.  You might find it useful."

"Thanks for the tip," she returned.  "If you've been working, you might not know that three of the Barons who planned Akeeno's assassination have been convicted.  Seven more are currently being tried, and more and more of them are getting charged each day.  It seems the conspiracy involved most of the Barons on one level or another."

"That doesn't surprise me," Luke replied.  "And the new President?"

"Antiradu Akeeno is proving to be just as good a leader as his wife was.  Pamylasia is recovering very well."

"That's good news.  And how are Anath, Lanari, and Hamsa doing?"

"The three of some work very well together," Leia informed him.  "You should be very proud of them.  They are handling leadership well.  Those who didn't like the Jedi before still don't, but among everyone else, their reputation has been almost fully restored.  In fact, a number of people think you should return."

"If that's what is to be, it will happen in its own time," was Luke's calm reply.  "Meanwhile, we have other things on our minds."

"Speaking of which, have you narrow down the list of names?"  Han asked.  

"Oh, yes," Mara assured him.  "We're down to one hundred."

"I'm still disappointed you're not naming the kid after me," he protested.

"What if it's a girl?"  Luke suggested.

"Hanna is a perfectly fine name."

"Speaking of kids, are yours awake?"

Han shook his head.  "You just missed them.  They're asleep now.  Besides, Anakin always cries when he sees that fungus on your face."

Luke scratched his beard.  "You don't think it makes me look dignified?"

"No!"  Mara answered.  "I hate the thing.  Undercover or not, I'm going to make him shave it soon."

"Might as well," Luke agreed.  "As of now, Talon's got us on parental leave.  No more assignments until we ask for them."

"When is the baby due?"  Leia asked.

Mara shrugged.  "It could be tomorrow, it could be a month.  He'll come when he's ready."

"Or she," Luke automatically amended.  Despite her unwillingness to learn the baby's sex, Mara persisted in referring to it as a boy.

"Well, be sure to call us as soon as he-or-she gets here," Leia ordered.  "And you'll come home soon after, won't you?"

"Of course," Luke agreed.  "For a nice, long vacation."

They exchanged a few more jibes and pleasantries before finally saying goodbye.  For several minutes after the call, Han and Leia sat silently reviewing the conversation.  They each worried about Luke and Mara in their own way, but they seldom troubled each other with their worries.

At last Leia remarked, "I still wish they'd come back to Coruscant for the birth."

Han wrapped his arms around her.  "I know.  But they wanted to avoid the publicity, remember?  By some miracle, only you and I even know they're expecting.  Coruscant is big, but even they wouldn't be able to hide here."

Leia sighed.  "You're right, and it does make sense.  Still, it deprives me of being there when the baby's born."

"Hey, if you're that lonely for babies, we can have another one."

"Not that lonely," she corrected with a grin.  "I'm ready to be an aunt now, not a mother."

"And the kids will finally have a cousin.  We're just one big extended family now.  How many kids do you think they'll have?"

"If Luke had his way, probably fourteen," Leia laughed.  "But I don't know if Mara would agree to it.  Let them start with one for now, and afterwards we'll see."

"Only one?" Han queried.  "Not twins?"

"For heaven's sake, not twins!  We've got more than enough of those in this family."

"Aw," Han protested, nuzzling against Leia's neck.  "Just think what they'll be missing."

Over a week later, they received a coded message: "Congratulations!  You have a new nephew!  We are all doing well, and will see you soon.  We're coming home at last."


End file.
